By The Light Of The Moon
by Moloko Vellocet
Summary: Did you ever wonder why Sirius and James suspected Remus over Peter? The full story of our favourite werewolf, from beginning to unfortunate end. MWPP L/J L/R Hr/D H/G. NEW CHAPTERS AS OF FEB. 2003!
1. Prologue

This is my newest story, since I'm taking a little break from "Playground Love" for the moment (well…. more like a writer's blocking break), I came up with this idea about two months ago and had been planning and plotting meticulously since then - and I thought, "what the hey! I'll write this story and I'll write it now!"

So here it is. Everything except for my take on the concept of this story belongs to J.K. Rowling… and who knows? Maybe I've been stealing her brainwaves or something because to my mind, it seems rather probable that James and Sirius would have needed a _reason_ to choose Peter over Remus, right?

Please read and review! I know this chapter is incredibly short but then, my prologues always are! Look at "Playground Love" for more evidence of that!

Prologue

The first thing I ever remembered was the house. A huge, imposing manor on a hill doesn't fade easily from the memory. Tall fir trees framed it like a picture postcard – it was a dream, an ideal. I haven't been back in so long that I'm probably being led by a fit of fancy in describing it. The only thing that ever marred the perfection in my mind was me, playing in the freshly fallen snow.

I was always the failure in my family. My grandfather constantly assured me that I was akin to him and therefore could _never_ be a failure, but I didn't really believe him. The looks I received daily from my uncle always proved his words otherwise.

As a child, I could not comprehend the enormity of my world. I would race down the long hallways with my playmates and gaze at the paintings the covered the walls. They were my ancestors, my blood. I'd try to think of them as real people, boys and girls who loved to play Quidditch and accidentally set fire to their cousin's cat and used to play pranks on the house elves.

They were boys and girls who went to Hogwarts, just like everyone else. Hogwarts was a privilege I doubted I would ever earn, and I felt like I would never become any closer to this long-dead family of mine. Even those who were alive were distant and peculiar.

Yet this was only because they were different, as was I, and even through my infant eyes I knew that our name meant more than life itself. It backed up all our opinions, our friendships and downfalls. We thought we ruled it but, in reality, it ruled us. This name could give you everything you ever wished for and more… love, success, wealth, happiness… it was a little genie that popped from its Aladdin lamp every time you uttered it.

My name is Remus James Lupin. I graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the top of my class, and I entered into an unspoken career of mysteries. I lost my friends, my love, and my reason to live over twenty years ago. I am a true failure, for I let my life be tainted by this name.

My name is Remus James Lupin… but my mother's name was Malfoy.


	2. Early Life: Not An Heir

Well, everyone seemed to want some more, so I wrote some more. And, as I hope you can see through this chapter, I'm attempting to change the face of the Malfoy's slightly to my readers - I don't find it probable that an entire family can be evil for absolutely no discernable reason. That's why Remus isn't evil, whereas Lucius is… it's a personal choice. Plus you still need a reason. I'm hoping to answer a lot of questions from the book's for myself with this fiction, which is why it will be rather strange to some people. 

Disclaimer: The world, Lucius Malfoy and Remus Lupin belong to J.K. Rowling. Alexander, Ariadne, Roxane, Archibald and Cassius all belong to myself. If you really want to use them, (which I sincerely doubt) just send me an email. I'll probably let you, so I wouldn't worry. St. Mungo's belongs to JK too. And the quote at the beginning comes from Chapter Ten of "The Enchanted Wood" by Enid Blyton - a book I know for certain was around in this time frame. :)

If you find any errors in this story, through grammar or spelling, or anything else, please tell me in your review. So, read and review, and I will be very happy! And quite possibly write more… even though I'll do that anyway, I might take longer this way. 

Enjoy the story!

***

Chapter One

Not An Heir

__

July 17th 1959, 5:08pm

"_So Jo, dressed in his little bearskin, and looking just like a little white bear himself, crept off over the ice and snow, not seen by anyone. He ran as soon as he thought he was out of sight. But he met nobody; not a soul was to be seen. Only a lonely seal lay on a shelf of ice, but even he dived below as soon as he saw him…_"

As her son squirmed in her lap restlessly, Ariadne Malfoy noticed an owl fluttering at the window. Her eyes brightened and she slid Lucius onto the sofa, standing and hurrying to the window to let the owl in from the heat. She recognised the crest it wore immediately. Pouring some water into a dish for the owl, she raced towards her husband's study.

Alexander looked up from his work to see his wife standing breathlessly in the doorway. "Yes, dear?" he questioned, a tired tone to his voice, and Ariadne held out the letter she held in her hand, an excited smile reflected in her steel-blue eyes. Curious, he opened the envelope and pulled from it a thick piece of parchment. "St. Mungos?" he asked his wife, and she nodded, motioning for him to continue. 

Alexander read the letter aloud:

"_Dear Mr. Alexander Malfoy and Family,_

We are pleased to announce the birth of a grandson to yourself and your wife, born 17/07/1959, at exactly 5:01pm. His weight was 8lb. 6oz. and he was born with brown hair and hazel eyes. 

His name has been decided by his father, Archibald Lupin, to be named after his father, and secondly after your own, by the mother Roxane Malfoy. 

We congratulate you on the birth of the newest addition to your family, **Remus James Lupin**, and we invite you to visit us at your leisure.

Yours truly,

The Staff at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, Injuries and other Medical Conditions."

"Remus James Lupin," Ariadne smiled to herself, dreaming of her new grandson. "It's a good name. Roxane chose well."

"Didn't you hear a word I read?" Alexander looked irritated. "First grandson in this family, and not an heir! Named after a fool like all the Lupin's… should never have allowed Roxane to go around marrying a Ministry idiot like that, who knows nothing about the world. She'll live to regret it, I'll put my word on that!"

Ariadne reached out and placed a calming hand on her husband's arm. "Settle yourself, Alexander. We should be grateful to have any grandchildren at all, what with all the trouble that's stirring up in the world." She sighed heavily, and sank down into a nearby chair. "And I was foolish enough to think that everything had been solved with the destruction of Grindelwald."

Alexander knelt in front of her; determination set in his face. "I promise you, Ariadne, that the Malfoy's will become a respectable family once more. And I won't try to take the easy way out this time." He smiled at his wife, and she found herself able to believe his words. "I swear on our marriage, on our family, and on our lives. I will not be tempted."

"I believe you." Taking his face in her hands, she kissed her husband softly and felt his arms wrap around her tightly. She broke the kiss and stared deeply into his hazel eyes. "I think Remus has your eyes, my love."

He laughed and gazed at his wife mockingly. "Well, then we're assured that he's a true Malfoy, are we not?"

"Eyes are the window to the soul, some people say."

Alexander stood and held his arms open wide, a grin on his aged face. "Then I doth proclaim it thus: Remus James Lupin is a Malfoy, be not in name. He is not an heir, but shall be the greatest Malfoy that ever lived!" Dropping back to his wife's side, he kissed her cheek quickly. "Best reply to this letter, then I'll ask Lucius what he thinks about a trip to the zoo for tomorrow."

Ariadne was left sitting in the study, contentment evident in her entire body. She sighed as she thought of how this day would go down in history for the Malfoy family. "The day when Remus Lupin was born, and the day when I regained hope. Grindelwald was nearly the end of this family once, and I won't let anything - or anyone - else tear us apart." The sincerity of Alexander's words reappeared in her memory and she closed her eyes to think of the future. _I believe you, Alex. I believe you._

***

"Sister Roxane?"

A tall, slim girl of only twenty turned in her chair to face her younger brother, and she balanced her child in her lap as she smiled at him. "Good evening, Lucius. How was your day today?"

Lucius grinned broadly. "Smashing! Father took me to the zoo and I got to see the seals and the giraffes and the big lion! It was excellent!"

Roxane smiled happily. "It sounds simply wonderful, Lucius." She lent in closely to the small boy and whispered conspiratorially: "Whenever I went to the zoo, I made it a point of seeing the otters. They were always my favourite. But don't tell Cassius - he was more of a hyena man himself." Lucius giggled and stared at the baby who had just begun to awaken. She followed his gaze and held the child out to her brother. "Would you like to hold your nephew, Lucius?"

He nodded quickly, and Roxane moved over to let him sit on the couch. "He's a little heavy, so it might be better if you sat down." Lucius climbed onto the lounge, and then outstretched his arms, ready to hold Remus in them. Roxane placed the child in her brother's hands and stood, watching for a moment as Lucius adjusted to the weight. "I'm going to go get a drink? You want anything?" Lucius shook his head, and stared after his sister as she left the room.

Gazing down at the now-calm face of his nephew, Lucius felt a strange feeling overcome him. The boy heard a voice speaking in his head, and this voice made him angry. _He will destroy you…_ it whispered, and Lucius felt his scalp grow hot as he listened to the stories it told him. _With him, you will fail in the eyes of everyone around you. Without him, you will be glorified and will stand beside me as a ruler of the entire magical world. _He shook his head, feeling hot tears spring to his eyes. What was this voice asking him? _You will never get a better chance than this one, Lucius Malfoy. Do it now or regret it forevermore. _

"I don't understand," Lucius sobbed as he sat there, trying to fight the urge that threatened to overcome his being. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

__

Kill him. He is weak and without protection. Kill him now. 

"No!" Lucius pushed the baby out of his lap and raced from the room, running down the long hallways, trying desperately to find someone who could help him fight the monster in the living room. As he hurried around one corner he bumped into a tall figure and fell backwards to the ground. Lucius' sobs grew louder and the shadow reached down to lift him up, shushing him softly.

"Lucius, it's alright. Just a bump on your head, or so I'm guessing. You should know not to race around these halls in the dark." 

As light fell over his rescuer's face, he recognised it immediately. "Cassius!" he exclaimed thankfully. "You have to come with me! Someone was trying to hurt Remus!"

Cassius looked doubtful. "Are you sure this wasn't just another one of your nightmares, Lou?"

The small boy shook his head vehemently. "It was someone inside my head. They told me I should kill Remus because he was going to hurt me. I got scared and wanted Mother but I found you instead." Cassius smiled reassuringly at his young brother, but his mind was whirling with possibilities. _Is this not what we learnt of at school, of Dark Wizards that could infiltrate minds in mysterious ways? Still, Lucius is but a child and might have been imagining things._ He emerged from his reverie to see Lucius looking at him rather impatiently. "Well, are we going to go and save Remus or not?!"

The man nodded. "Of course. He is a Malfoy, and well-deserving of all the aid we can give."

Lucius puffed out his chest proudly. "Then let's go!" He ran back towards the living room, and Cassius found himself struggling to keep up. _I guess a few years without Quidditch weren't a good choice for me. I've developed a Ministry paunch, just like all Government officials. _With an inward smirk, Cassius hurried after Lucius as fast as he could.

When he arrived, out of breath, he saw Roxane berating Lucius rather heavily. "Lucius, what were you doing?! Anything might have happened to Remus while you were off roaming the halls, doing whatever!" Roxane glanced up to see Cassius, and a knowing look replaced the irritation on her face. "Oh, I see. Obviously you're involved with this also, aren't you?"

Cassius shook his head. "Yes and no. But please stop blaming Lucius - he was scared, so he ran to find Mother."

"Mother?" Roxane looked unconvinced. "And why exactly did he need Mother? I only left him for a moment or two."

"Well, obviously long enough for him to hear a voice in his head - not to mention one who tried to persuade him to hurt your son. He did the right thing in seeking one of us out."

Roxane looked shocked. She stared at Lucius in disbelief. "What happened? What did they say?"

Lucius started to cry once more, and Cassius placed an arm around him defensively. The boy pushed his hand away and ran out of the room once more. Cassius sighed. "Something about Remus becoming a threat to Lucius when he was older, or that's about as much as I could discern. Lucius seemed pretty upset."

"Remus? A threat? How could he possibly be a threat to Lucius if he isn't an heir?" Roxane shook her head, perturbed. "Are you sure he didn't just imagine it?"

"I really don't know. Either way, maybe it's better to keep Remus in your wing to yourself for a little while. Or at least while Lucius is around. Once he's at school, Mother and yourself will have the days to yourself."

"Are you sure? I don't know if putting myself under house arrest…"

Cassius put his hand on her shoulder. "Anything's better than upsetting Lucius. He may be small, but he's got plenty of pull in this household - a lot more than we did when we were young. But those were the days when children were rarely seen and never heard, weren't they?"

Roxane smiled at the memory. "Father really hated us half the time, didn't he? Not that I blame him, with us running around all summer like crazed lunatics!"

Cassius smothered a laugh. "We were struck by a little moon-madness, I believe - we were like werewolves, calm half the time and insane the rest."

A cool shudder came over Roxane at these words and she remembered Lucius' ordeal. "Do you think someone might've been speaking to Lucius through his mind - trying to make him kill Remus?"

"It's possible. Mother told me about Dark Wizards who were capable of such things - and there's always the Imperious Curse to watch out for."

"But… the Imperious Curse… it's…!"

Cassius nodded. "I know. It's a big price to pay, but I doubt that anything happened. Probably just Lucius' imagination running away with him, or a 'day-mare' of some sort. Children are unusual creatures."

Roxane clutched Remus closer to her at this comment, and kissed him softly on the head to comfort herself. "Yes, they are," she murmured, before taking her leave and retiring to her quarters. She never told anyone about the voice she heard in her own head that night, but it echoed in her mind for many years to come.

__

Don't worry… you can't protect him forever.

***


	3. Early Life: Loss

Yes! It's another new chapter! 

Disclaimer: I don't own much of this, since almost everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. The only things that don't are Alexander, Cassius, Sarissa, Roxane and Ariadne Malfoy - excluding their last name, of course. 

I don't have much to say at the moment, since I'm pretty sure this chapter speaks for itself. Obviously, Remus is speaking at both the beginning and the end of this chapter. This will probably be a regular occurrence, or rather the beginning shall be… it's sort of like a "mini-prologue" or an aside during the story. Think of Remus as the narrator, with omnipresent abilities… either way, it's probably going to be constant, so don't think too much about it.

Please Read and Review! I'm rather tired at this very moment, so I'm posting this really fast since tomorrow I am off to watch "Lord of the Rings" yet again…. Hell, with Legolas around, who could stop me? ; ) 

***

Chapter Two

Loss

Life began easily for me. I suppose that is true for many other children in our world, which is one free of poverty and famine. But something in my life was always different. I had few playmates, save Lucius and my cousin Sarissa. I felt removed from them, rather Lucius, who avoided me through most of my adolescence. Even my mother appeared as a distant, beautiful figure which I could never hope to please. 

So, in this world which seemed to outsiders full of warmth and love I found only indifference. I was a prisoner of the tall, ironclad barrier that stopped me from shattering everywhere… it contained me. Maybe that's why, in those early years, my transformations were a relief - they allowed me to shatter for a few hours regularly, and probably saved me from myself.

But, before I had a liberation such as this, I had a woman who did the exact same thing. I can never think of her in the formal tones of her own name, which are as foreign to me as a normal life. It was she who photographed me in front of the manor; the snowman dressed in her hat and scarf. I have no other semblance of her.

Nana. My grandmother, and my sunlight in the midst of icy glares. 

I doubt I would have survived childhood without her.

***

__

March 23rd, 1964, 7:35pm

"Hurry, Remus - you don't want Mummy to have to carry you, do you darling?"

The small boy rushing along behind her reached out for Roxane's hand and she gripped it thankfully. Smiling down at her son, she increased her speed as they raced down luminous white hallways. Remus gazed around at the multitude of wizards that seemed to be congregating in these narrow corridors; their cream-coloured cloaks making them appear as one with the surroundings.

"Oh, thank the heavens! It's a boy!" The cry echoed from some distant part of the building, and Remus grinned at the excitement he heard in the man's voice. The sound of joy seemed strange in this alien world of palest white. 

"Remus, stop." His mother's voice sounded tired, and Remus squinted up at the door that lay in front of them. _177._ In the back of his mind the number sounded as if it were familiar, as if it should mean something. But numbers had no importance save to mar the purity of the blank wall, the horrid black figures infecting the wood of the door. "We're here."

His mother's hand pushed heavily on the door, which swung open easily at her touch. Remus felt his hand drop back to his side as Roxane entered the room which contained something so precious as to fly and run and scream for it. Not knowing if he was doing the right thing, Remus leaned forward to peer inside, hoping to gain a glimpse of the wonder that lay beyond.

Steel-blue eyes met his hazel ones as he looked, and the cool stare startled the small boy. He recognised the stare immediately. "Uncle Cassius," he breathed, fear coursing through his young veins. "What are you doing here?"

Cassius laughed bitterly. "Indeed. I have been asking myself the same question." The man stood, revealing a girl with chestnut hair and violet eyes hiding behind his legs. Cassius nodded from the girl to Remus. "Sarissa, you remember Remus. I believe it's been some time since you were last acquainted."

"Hello." Remus smiled weakly at his older cousin, who simply gripped her father's leg more firmly. Struggling to remember the manners his mother had attempted to teach him, Remus held out his left hand to Sarissa. "How do you do?"

Cassius sniggered. "Look at the little Girl Guide here. I always knew Roxane was doing something wrong…" With this last remark, Cassius removed Sarissa from his leg and left the room, the door swinging closed behind him.

Remus fidgeted uncomfortably. Sarissa climbed onto the seat her father had occupied previously and stared brazenly at her cousin. After a moment or two, she asked: 

"Are you always so stupid?"

Remus was surprised at the question. "No," he replied, confused. "Why?"

Sarissa rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're simply too young to understand."

"What do you mean?"

She nodded to the bed which had gone unnoticed to Remus' dull senses. "Grandmother is dying."

Childish yet pure emotion flooded Remus' mind. He knitted his eyebrows in bewilderment. "What?"

"She has a disease that can't be cured. Father said it's something to do with her mother being a Muggle and all. It can't be helped."

Remus swallowed, knowing that he would be rebuked severely for his next question. "What do you mean, a Muggle?"

Sarissa choked mockingly. "You don't know about Muggles? Or Mudbloods?"

Roxane's head jerked up at this last word, and she turned to look at her niece, shock evident in her face. "Excuse me?"

Sarissa stared defiantly at her aunt. "Mudblood. It's someone who isn't a true wizard." Then, after thinking for a moment, she added, "and Squibs are real wizards who have no sense."

"I know what it means." Roxane sighed. "Who told you that?"

"Father. He said that Muggles killed Grandmother."

Remus jumped. "But… she's just there."

Sarissa rolled her eyes. "Well, he said that they're _killing_ her, then. Either way, if she wasn't a Mudblood, none of this would ever have happened."

Roxane observed her niece with disgust before turning her gaze back towards the sleeping form of her mother. The grey was only just beginning to stain her thick, wavy brown hair, and Roxane felt as if she was looking at herself only a few years older. _She's still so young,_ she thought, warm tears beginning to course down her face. _She's even young by Muggle standards. I wonder if a short life will be my fate. _As her mind was reminded of the troubles that were whispered of in her father's study late at night, Roxane sighed heavily. _Maybe Mother is the lucky one, not me. She's moving on before the world is destroyed once more. _

Ariadne stirred and her eyes flickered open to reveal grey depths. As she recognised her daughter above her, a gentle smile was reflected in the soft blue. She said nothing for a moment, before opening her mouth to find she could not. Remembering, she reached out slowly for the paper which lay on her nightstand and the self-inking quill she always used. Roxane heard the familiar scritch-scratch of the quill on the parchment, and waited patiently to hear her mother's words.

Passing the sheet to her daughter, Ariadne lay back into her pillow. Roxane noted that her face looked older now that she was awake, and that in the peacefulness of sleep she had failed to see the pain which echoed from every movement her mother made. She turned her attention to the parchment below her, reading silently the words Ariadne had penned there.

__

Dearest Roxane,

If I should never speak again, do not fear for me. Life is sometimes worse than death could ever be, and it is only the love of others that can keep us sane during those times. You must be strong for the others, Roxane. Your father would never break a promise, but Cassius can be very persuasive. No matter what, keep your own mind. Something much more terrifying than Grindelwald is spoken of in secret circles, and my last wish is that you shall not see the days of a Dark Wizard. 

In my absence, you are Mother. Do not allow Cassius to envelop Lucius in his deceptions - my sons could never be as strong as my only daughter.

Love, always and ever,

Mother.

As Roxane glanced up from the letter to her mother's face, she saw that Ariadne was sleeping once more. Being careful not to disturb her, she rose from the side of the bed and approached the children in the corner. "Remus, time to go." He nodded silently to his mother, his eyes fixated on the peaceful form of his grandmother in the hospital bed. 

"You too, Sarissa." The girl pouted at her aunt, and was about to protest when something in Roxane's face stopped her. Instead, she walked from the room defeatedly, followed closely by Remus, who waited for his mother in the cool white passage. Sarissa flounced off in search of her father, and Roxane turned the letter over to fold it, noticing a postscript as she did so.

__

Tell Remus that I love him. Hold him tightly and never let go, Roxane, for this child's life is more precious than any rock, or any metal. His mind would be coveted by kings.

Confused, Roxane placed the parchment inside a concealed pocket of her robes, and let the door swing closed behind her. She felt as if she'd just been given a gift, be it one as heavy as elephant. Heaving the thoughts to the back of her mind, Roxane reached down to grip Remus' hand, who stared up at his mother in surprise.

"Don't be shocked, Remus," his mother said, and he knew that something had changed between them. "I am ready now."

***

It would not be until many years later that I would understand those words, or many of the other things I had encountered that night in St. Mungos. I had met my mother for the first time, the woman who would irrevocably change my life forever. I had simply lost one soulmate to gain another.

Only now, gazing back, can I see this time for what it truly was. In my child's mind I took it as a time to play, a time to be happy, a time to enjoy. But for many other's, especially those close to me, it was a time of great pain. My grandmother was not wrong in her assumptions. As I sort through my mother's cherished belongings I have found many things which point directly towards a name feared by all today. This letter, yellowed and faded, was simply a beginning.

Later that night, I awoke suddenly to see a small light flickering above my head. It was a tiny thing, a firefly, and it guided me away from my safe warm bed and to a cold, desolate wing of the manor. I remember shivering in my pyjamas one moment yet feeling much too hot the next. The little winged light led me to a room I had only visited once before - my grandfather's study. To be sent there was a serious thing indeed, and a regular occurrence for my cousin Sarissa. I stood outside the doorway, and heard familiar voices speaking in muffled tones. As I realised what they were speaking of, I sank to the floor, an incredible, unbelievable sadness overtaking my fragile body. I felt like weeping but had no tears… my grandmother was gone forever, and my family were discussing it inside this room.

Or, rather, select members of my family. All women were absent, and if my father was there he never spoke a word. Two men and a boy talked for hours about things my feeble mind was unable to grasp… the one thing I understood for sure was that their discussion was peppered with tones of hatred. My grandfather sounded much angrier than he had ever been when Sarissa had hexed the maid or when Lucius practiced his beating skills in the parlour. My uncle's voice contained just as much venom as ever, his words slick with oil as he struggled to persuade Alexander and Lucius. 

I couldn't move from the position I had sat in, even though my left leg felt like a piece of rubber than would collapse the moment I stood, and this scared me. Pain frightened me immensely then, more so than it ever can now, since then it all seemed so fresh, and so new. It was not until I heard their last remnants of conversation that I knew I had to move quickly. As my leg began to recover from an hour's lack of blood, I, glancing around myself, realised that my guide had disappeared and that I had no idea how to return to my room. Fear gripped my heart as I felt sure that, if I was found eavesdropping at my grandfather's door I would surely be killed, or worse - exile from my family's manor was a likely option also.

The last words of my relations before exiting into the hallway took years to recall, for my mind was so far from comprehension at that point I failed to remember the pact made. Now it comes back to me, in simplistic words: "Muggle illness killed a much-loved relation of ours, Ariadne Malfoy. There was no cure, for all Muggle's are fools. I swear that, on my name, Muggle's and Mudblood's shall never again contaminate the veins of any we hold dear, or of any other respectable Wizarding family. I, Alexander Malfoy, promised my wife that I would save this family… and I have failed once. I will not fail again."

When they emerged, my relatives found me sprawled on the floor, twitching in fear. My grandfather, taking pity on me, believed me to have been sleepwalking and returned me to my proper bed. I always found it so unusual that people so trusting could ever hate someone. I lay awake all night with selfish thoughts of how my grandmother had abandoned me, and how I wanted her to come and wake me up for an early morning walk in the woods. It is now, when I cannot change a thing that I realise exactly how close I was to saving our world - and how easily such a choice can be made.

***

Please R/R! Your words mean the world to me!!


	4. Early Life: Platform Nine and Three Quar...

I know it's been a long time…. But as of TODAY (01/11/02) – Kukies only has TWO HSC EXAMS LEFT!! Yay! So its time for some fan-fic-fun! (like tic-tac-toe…?). Anyhoo, EVERYTHING belongs to J.K. Rowling EXCEPT Cassius, Roxane, Nicolette, Sarissa, Ariadne AND Alexander. Lucius is hers, of course… and anyone else too. So I hope you enjoy the next fun-loving (pfft.) chapter of *drum roll*:

BY       THE     LIGHT             OF       THE                 MOOOOOOOOON!                                     (hee.)

***

**Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters**

I still feel chills at the thought of Cassius' eyes upon me, the frozen blue snowing my skin a pale, sweating white. The loss of my grandmother hardened them; as if molten metal had seeped in without melting their icy glare… Lucius' eyes were just the same, but something in them was soft and warm. Death was not advanced there; and the incurable touch of hatred was yet to tint red the thoughts of his mind. My uncle Cassius, his insides broiling with rage was rotting himself at the core – but Lucius lived vibrantly, from colour to colour, his eyes reflecting the hope he kept safe in his deepest dreams.

I wish I'd never seen those eyes fade: black, weary – and flushed with tears.

***

_September 1st, 1966__, __12:06pm_

"We're going to be late!" Lucius seemed like a madman as he darted out of the automobile – sent with compliments to the Malfoy Estate that morning, from one of Alexander's Ministry acquaintances – and rushed to the trunk, banging on it loudly. 

Remus jolted in his seat, causing Roxane to put out one arm automatically on his chest. "Lucius!" she cried angrily, nudging her father and brother out to help him. "The train won't leave for another half-hour! Settle!" Flushed, she turned back to Remus and unbuckled him from the seatbelt.

"Mother…" he whined softly, pushing her hands away. She looked down at him with wide eyes. "I can do it myself." And, letting him alone, he deliberated with it for almost five minutes, causing Lucius so much stress he nearly imploded on the spot. 

"Come onnn…!" Remus watched his young uncle jump around as he slowly undid the belt. Feeling amused, he slid from the seat leisurely, and closed the door like a tortoise teasing the proverbial hare. 

"Ready," he breathed softly, which caused his grandfather, who was slightly deaf, to ask for a repetition. Before Remus could reply, Lucius grabbed his trunk and began dragging it up the stairs into the crowded station. Cassius followed him, a scowl on his face, and his hands shoved deep inside the pockets of his trousers. Gazing around at the people filing into the station, Remus could barely see the difference between his family and those around him… but somewhere in his mind he felt the difference; and he knew that deep down in his soul he would always feel it when surrounded by… what did Sarissa call them? Mugglebloods? 

Luckily, before he lost himself in the crowd Roxane turned to find her small son. "Remus…" she hissed, and he leapt for her entreating hand. He smiled up at his mother as she led him through the revolving doors and into the enormous room beyond. As he looked around himself in wonder, Remus noticed a small girl with blonde hair turn and poke her tongue out at him. Remembering his previous experiences with little girls, he knew better than to extend his hand politely, and tossed his head deferentially to one side instead. When he looked again, the little girl had disappeared, and his face fell.

Roxane leant down and looked at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Remus, would you like to see the train to Hogwarts?"

"Can I really?" His face brightened immediately, but he quelled his excitement and corrected himself solemnly, "may I, Mother?"

She smiled reassuringly. "Certainly, Remus." Her lips twitched a little at this, and suddenly Roxane pulled him up over her head and sat him on her shoulders. "Let's go!" And, with her skirt flailing wildly, she rushed straight into the wall, Remus stiff with fright. They were going to hit it, in five… four… three… two...! ONE!

Then, nothing. Remus saw a bright red train sitting quite calmly on a set of tracks, heard the whistle blow, and felt the warm air rushing past him in the forms of excited schoolchildren before he realised he was still alive and not wall-kill. His mother, her breathing heavy, took him from her shoulders and lowered him to the ground, and Remus found himself not reaching for her hand automatically. He had seen Lucius from his place perched atop his mother's head, but now everything around him was a flurry of pink arms and legs rushing madly about. The whistle blew again and the crowd seemed to thin, then Remus spotted the blue of his Uncle Cassius' eyes fixed on him. He felt that cold shiver often referred to as "someone walking over your grave" but, at the age of seven, Remus felt more like he and his uncle were the only two people in the world, staring at each other mindlessly, both in utter terror.

Suddenly, Cassius darted towards him and pulled Remus into the air as the cool air of a round object hurtled past and slammed into the platform. Cassius held it down with his left foot, his other balancing himself firmly on the ground. A tall, gawky red-haired boy lumbered over to retrieve it, and Remus saw his uncle scowl down at him.

"You should be more careful with your bludgers, boy. Especially with so many people about… you almost hurt my nephew here." Cassius nodded towards Remus and the boy turned scarlet. He was beginning to stammer out a reply when Cassius nudged the ball towards him. "Take it," he mumbled, and the boy grasped it in both hands, lugging it away through the crowd. Before he was more than a metre away Cassius yelled: "You, boy! What's your name, then?"

Tipping his head to the older man, the boy squeaked: "Arthur Weasley, sir," and, without waiting for a response, darted off into the train. Cassius shook his head disparagingly and placed Remus back on the ground. Kneeling before him, Remus received the first smile he'd ever experience from his uncle. Certainly, it was bitter and filled with annoyance, but Cassius felt relieved that his nephew wasn't hurt.

"Be careful, Remus," he whispered underneath his breath, "for there are some things in this world with more sense than Mudbloods, and intelligence is a far heavier weapon than any bludger." With an affectionate nod, Cassius turned to the train and looked on encouragingly as Lucius waved his arms out of the carriage window and the train gained speed. Remus merely watched the train until it disappeared into the distance, wondering exactly where such a journey might end – and what exactly a bludger was, anyway.

***

The days passed with the whipping of the wind. September, then October, to November, and December, then January, to February… and I could continue on like this until years instead were long gone, and the future gilded the horizon like a red sunbeam, full of blood – but that is not true to the nature of my story. I could proclaim to the heavens that time is but a fickle device, ticking away the never-ending spinning of the world; that human life means nothing to us now but numbers, dates and five more minutes… but, in the realm of magic, with its ways to capture time and slip through the dimensional fabric of the world, that is not true to the nature of my story. Instead, I will save my lack of life in these months, adding instead the new discoveries made by Lucius, my uncle, in his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_Dearest Father,_

_I have been sorted into Slytherin! It is just like I have always dreamt it to be; a place full of friends, with so many new hexes to learn! (Only joking, father – Shosanna will be free from Jelly-legs these holidays) – I'm really liking Astronomy, too, father. It seems so strange to think that everything might be decided by the simple loss of a star, and that something so far away might be gone years before we ever notice. I guess that sounds a little too much like Divination, but we won't get to study that until Third Year. Evan says its something to do with reading cow entrails, is that true?_

_Evan's the greatest. I met him on the train, and he was sorted into Slytherin as well. I told him about Mother and the Muggle illness and he told me about how something like that happened to his grandfather – then, I found out his last name was Rosier, like Mother! Apparently he's only distantly related, third cousin or something, but that doesn't matter because he wrote to his parents and they wrote him back quite excitedly. Might I stay with Evan in the Summer Holidays, Father? And may he come to stay with us for a week or two as well? He's been helping me with my Arithmancy homework, so I can impress Professor Dumbledore in class… he's the brickiest of teachers, Father! Valerie Morton says her uncle told her that his friend, a Ministry clerk,  overheard the Minister of Magical Education telling his assistant that Professor Dumbledore was in line for Headmaster. I hope so… Professor Dippet teaches only Muggle Studies, and Patty Sloane says he's a fool._

_I can't wait until Christmas, 'cause all the other Slytherin's tell me that Og, the gameskeeper, brings in a HUGE Christmas tree lit with a million candles and, using magic, keeps it alive in the Great Hall for WEEKS. I can't wait! It'll be smashing!_

_Plus, at Christmas I'll be home, and I can see you all again! Home seems so distant now that I'm at school, Father! I can't help but wonder if you'll ever get me home at all!_

_Love to Uncle Cassius, Aunt Nicolette, Sarissa, Aunt Roxane, Uncle Archibald, Remus – and most of all to YOU, Father!_

_Lucius._

How strange it feels to read words penned so long ago, from the hand of a boy whose same hand, creased with the lines of a man, would one day point the wand to murder so many forgotten souls. How the blood burns my veins as it rushes through, scalding the edges with fiery indignation! Innocence is lost, but Lucius, with his gazing at the stars became one of those individuals who might recapture it through knowledge, through experience – and perhaps through love. For, like the great Muggle writer Oscar Wilde said:

"_All of us are in the gutter, only some of us are looking at the stars."_

Lucius was chosen from the beginning. In my minds-eye I can envision my grandfather remembering this letter, the words of the child he had doomed through his hatred of Muggles – of _Mudbloods! – of the exact same thing his wife was once… a Muggle-born. His curse of Lucius was the curse on innocence – the curse I did not escape but one I fought with all my strength. I can see my grandfather's face, his eyes filling with tears, and the green light flooding the room with the stench of death._

Children lose their innocence daily, but Lucius had his torn away like a limb when he least expected it. This was not yet his time… but the fated day in my life had almost reached that bloody horizon.

***

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	5. Early Life: Severus

Yay! New chapter! Remus makes an unexpected friend; Lucius' comes home for the holidays; etc. 

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns EVERYTHING except for Roxane, Sarissa, Raoul, Jacqueline and Grandfather Alex. The film included is called _Camelot (1967), and, as an interesting coincidence, stars the late Richard Harris (whom you would recognise as Dumbledore from "Philosopher's Stone") as King Arthur. The book Roxane is reading is cited in the chapter, but for the disclaimer is "Orlando" (1928), by Virginia Woolf. The passage she reads is almost an entire chapter, I simply condensed the major themes. I love the Russian Princess part. Hee._

Have fun reading… BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOOOONN! *howls emphatically*

*****

**Severus**

It was March. The earth felt cool, vibrant – the heat of summer had yet to break through the industrial smog. The snow had melted long ago, and the new life underneath it sprung forth with a supernatural force; pink and purple flowers clashing against the green of warm grass. In the early spring mornings I would walk on the grounds with my mother, the dew glistening like teardrops from the gods. 

But this morning was different. When I awoke, I dressed in my usual shirt and trousers and hurried downstairs for breakfast… I was later than I expected. Unbeknownst to me, my watch had stopped ticking during the night and I had overslept. As I passed the parlour on my way to the kitchen I heard my mother's voice from within – and she was laughing! Peeking through the double-doors into the room, I saw three figures, one only slightly taller than I was, all wearing long, black cloaks. It appeared odd to me at the time probably only because, in the Malfoy family it was difficult to wear Wizard dress save on special occasions. My Grandfather and Uncle did business with Muggles so often that it seemed easier to wear their clothing as well, to avoid unwanted questions. So, I was surprised by the sight of Wizarding cloaks on what I thought was a typical Tuesday morning.

My mother noticed me standing at the door, and beckoned me to her. I walked in slowly, tentatively taking each new step into this room of unknown people. The smaller figure turned to look at me, and as he watched me coming closer his face brightened. With the cloak covering him, I stared at his dark eyes and it seemed as if his entire body was simply made of black and white composites. I smiled and he glanced away, to the woman seated beside him. As I reached my mother she grasped for my hand habitually.

"Remus, I would like to introduce you to my old school friend, Raoul Snape –" here she nodded towards the farthest of the figures, a tall man with the same pale skin and dark eyes as the boy on my left. "His wife Jacqueline, and his son Severus. I hope the two of you will be friends."

I felt Jacqueline, Severus' mother, fixated on me with her pale green eyes. Smiling weakly, I extended my left hand to Severus and said: "How do you do?"

***

_Dearest Father,_

_The train arrives at __3:45pm__ on June 15th – don't forget me! Evan's parents are traveling to France in the first three weeks of the holidays, so it's probably lucky he'll be staying with us – he says he hated __Paris__ last time he was there. Too many tourists, of course._

_I can't believe my first year is almost over! Soon I'll be an old, crabbed Seventh Year Prefect without any sense of fun – and I'm sure you'd love me that way, Father? No more mischief for Lucius! But I assure you, the dyeing of the caretaker's cat blue was a total accident. I was trying to work out my Transfiguration spells and cast the wrong one instead._

_Might I have a party for my birthday, Father? I'd love for you to meet my friends and their parents – all good stock, no need to worry! Slytherin always produces the most excellent wizards, as you well know. _

_Must get back to my homework or Professor McGonagall will be HOPPING mad! (Bertie Clump was the other day, because Jacob Tanner transfigured him into a frog – trust the Hufflepuff's, Father)._

_See you in June!_

_Lucius.___

***

I soon became fast friends with Severus Snape. To look back on it now, it was probably one of the best friendships I've ever had in my entire life… in him, I found a boy with a love for nature like myself that I had never thought possible. We were only young then, and could 'frolic with fairies' if we so chose – there was nothing to make us feel ashamed of our games. However, when June came, I knew that Lucius' return would change something between Severus and I. Lucius' had always been my only real playmate – unless you counted Sarissa, who was also arriving home from her Dutch prep school on the fifteenth – and his opinion, to me, counted more than anything. I was scared that Severus would feel bored just tagging along after us.

However, when Lucius came home I found that he had brought something I didn't expect – a friend. Sarissa was alone, but that was probably because she felt embarrassed by our dusty manor when she compared it to the tall tales of her prep school friends – French princesses, every one. With more silk than India to wrap them in; and more oil than Brunei to buy a little more silk. _Nouveau riche, in Grandfather's words: and Muggles, Jewish princesses, every one. Sarissa wouldn't want her friends to think her any different._

Evan Rosier was an unusual boy. Sarissa was smitten by him immediately, probably due to her exercises with nuns that past year; also, he was the first real boy outside of the family she'd ever seen close up – not just on the film screen. For Lucius' birthday we went to the pictures, rather than host a party – Grandfather was away in America at the time, and I loved the film so much that I begged Mother to bring me again on my birthday, which was only a few weeks away. I adored the mythology of it: of King Arthur and his glorious Camelot… his queen, Guinevere, was beautiful but treacherous; his knights were loyal to his crown and his order, save one who betrayed him along with Guinevere; everything was magical, wonderful and mysterious. It was this that introduced me to the world of legend – something that would become part of my life all too soon.

Severus, Sarissa and I tended to play alone, although on occasion we longed to be invited into one of Evan and Lucius' games. Sometimes we would simply sit beneath one of the huge fir trees, welcome shade from the glaring summer sun, and watch them racing across the estate, chasing each other and, when they caught the other, wrestling them to the ground playfully. Sarissa feigned disinterest in their childish game, but I knew that out of the corner of her eye she was fanning her fascination for the constantly active Evan. I never said anything to Severus, and smiled inwardly at the thought of her – my cousin, only two years my senior! – actually feeling that way about the troublesome Evan Rosier. It was not that I didn't understand the infatuation: I thought I knew what love meant, from wistful first glance to tragic end, and then begun over again. Only it was strange that my cousin, Sarissa… that she could feel the same as Arthur had, and Guinevere – and Lancelot! – when she was barely ten years old, and prone to throwing mud pies, eating paste, and tugging at our stately Persian cat's tail whenever it dared go near her (not that it was normally a friendly cat; her name was 'Prince' and demanded the treatment along with the name, despite the change in sex we had despaired over after she bore several litters of half-breed kittens to a mangy tom). Her adoration for Evan seemed incongruous with both her age and her immaturity.

We would follow Lucius and Evan from tree to tree; until the day they invited us to join them in the forest we never dared enter. Grandfather had once told me that gigantic goblins waited inside to gobble me up – for that was how they received their name, for gobbling Lupins. But with Lucius and Evan leading the way, how could we help but follow, no matter what the consequences? Surely, Grandfather might become angry (a sight not worth the effort) – but, without incident, he would never need to know. I remember how the trees closed around me as we walked, and I lingered to examine the small woodland flowers that grew in profusion beside the rabbit-path. The day was warm, and I felt a mosquito settle on my right arm. I drew my left hand back to slap it away, and the sound resonated among the trees.

I was now totally alone.

***

Roxane sat, her legs propped up on the chaise lounge as she read from her copy of what was termed a 'modern classic' in Muggle literature – _Orlando, by a Muggle named Virginia Woolf. She had immersed herself in the book, which began in 16th Century Britain, and, looking around herself at the Malfoy Estate, felt as if she were living in the home that is at the centre of Orlando's obsession. As her mind pictured a skating man and woman, gliding over the frozen River Thames, gazing down through the ice into the image of a sunken ship with an apple seller sitting calmly on the deck, a scream sliced through the stagnant summer air; the ice cracked suddenly and floated into the waiting ocean, a million lives trapped in unwilling death as they were swept into the sea._

She dropped the book, it falling to the paving that covered the courtyard, and looked up with a fear in her eyes reminiscent of the fools sailing to their doom atop a melting iceberg. Roxane watched Severus emerge, his terror mirroring her own. Something clamped heavily onto her stomach and she had a sudden impulse to run; not toward Severus and the forest from which the shriek had come – but away, far away, to dive into the ocean and greet those whose hearts had sunk just as hers did with the look on the small boy's face. Instead, she steeled herself and began the slow walk up the slope and into the new life she had merely glimpsed in her vision.

When Severus reached her, she saw that his face was flushed not only with exertion, but with the heated tears that felt as if he was weeping his own blood. "Remus," he breathed heavily, and Roxane nodded, the lines around her eyes deepening slightly. "He's…" Severus couldn't finish the sentence, and was reduced to sobbing against Roxane's hip. She held him tightly as he cried, and felt the flame of love she felt for Remus flare up in her soul like a relit pilot. Not knowing what to expect, or what waited for her in the cluster over trees she had never explored in her own childhood, she grasped Severus to herself and trudged up the hill, resolve imprinted in her heart. _My son, the flame echoed within her body, __Remus._

***

The full moon rose that night, and Roxane watched her son sleep fitfully in his bed, the bites and scratches scarring the left side of his body from knee to breast. The tears she had not shed in front of him streamed down her face, the rivulets warming her face against the cool night air. But she cried not for Remus, for the son whose brains whom her mother had described as, "_coveted by kings", would now never be trained; his life would be irrevocably changed by this fateful day. _

Roxane's tears flowed not for Remus; or for the shame this affliction would bring upon her family; or for the terrible burden they would have to bear. The weeping was for the loss of love – for, as she herself knew, her husband was not the strongest of men: and, she would never be able to tell him the truth for fear of his reaction.

And, as these selfish tears were shed, we are reminded that although she thought of this primarily, it is undoubted that Remus, and her family, were all taken into account. Archibald was a Lupin – and, unlike Roxane's bond to a name, and a heritage, Archibald was, as her Father often said, from a family of fools who were never satisfied.

The full moon rose; and Roxane prayed for her husband, not for her son.

*

Woot-hoo? Read and review (I wish I'd stop sounding like an owl – a repetitive one at that!) 


	6. Early Life: Summer Lost

Another new chapter. I hope you Remus-lovers enjoy this one; I haven't had much of a response to my newest postings, but I'd like to say a great big "THANKYOU!" to Clare and Moony Lover – without you guys, this chapter wouldn't have happened.

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. except for Roxane, Raoul, Jacqueline, Alexander, Cassius, Nicolette and Sarissa. The 'Chronicles' Remus is referencing are, quite obviously, Anne Rice's "_Vampire Chronicles" and Louis de Pont du Lac (who is Remus' match if ever there was one! Sirius is more of a Lestat to me…) – which, since I'm not including it as __fanfiction__, per se, shouldn't be a problem for Ms. Rice._

Enjoy the latest chapter of…     BY                   THE                 LIGHT             OF                   THE                MOON…!!!

***

**Summer Lost**

That summer passed me by with the wax and wane of the moon. At that time, I did not truly understand my disorder; as a mere child of eight, how could I comprehend that I had entered into the realm of the mythology that I adored? All I could remember from my ordeal in the forest wasn't fear, but euphoria. The pain, while excruciating, seemed to take me to heights that even I cannot describe, or begin to feel again. In later years, I would compare this exhilaration to popular novels I read, concerning supernatural beings like vampires… and a man from these 'Chronicles' whose experience seemed to mirror my own. This Louis, a man who feels guilt at every action that brings him this rapture – this mingling of pain and pleasure in the bloodlust that incorporates every being such as our own – would not become known to me until long after my teenage turmoil had been replaced by complacency and acceptance of my place in the world as I saw it.

The immediate trouble that concerned my family was that of my education. Being what I was – or what they suspected me to be – I could never attend the usual magical colleges; even the doors of the intriguingly dark Durmstrang Academy were closed to those of my kind. A cure was inconceivable, as the only known cure to werewolves – and even now I am tentative to write the world – was the destruction of the alpha whose blood now freely mingled with my own. Supposing I could ever track the one who made me, it was not assured that he was my alpha, since werewolves may be created by betas (derivations from the original blood), and to destroy him might have ruined my only link to my werewolf father. The Werewolf Registry has never been as complete as it should've been, and even now my brothers and sisters remained unknown to me, with confidential files our only hope for anonymity in this modern world. My mother hesitated to register me right away; as the textbooks on the subject all decreed that a werewolf might only transform after his body has fully accepted the beast within: usually after a period of thirteen moons, and the first anniversary of my dark gift.

I awaited this date with trepidation, anxiety and – surprisingly, some may say – curiosity. In truth it was that mixture of ecstasy and guilt that I craved, that moment in which I drifted between heaven and hell seamlessly, consciously. 

Evan Rosier returned home several days later; Lucius with him. They had avoided me since the forest, and although some part of me knew I should feel hurt by this, in the forests my emotions had changed. I withdrew even more into myself, only allowing my mother and Severus to keep me company. Uncle Cassius tended to gaze upon me with a sense of wonder, his cool blue eyes dissecting me down to the blood that pumped change through my tender veins. Severus would sit with me in my room when the shakes came; he held my hand as I started to tremble and the blood heated and cooled within my fragile body. His father never ended his connection with our family – whenever he would visit us, Severus in tow, his look was always warm, kind, without any trace of polite sympathy or melodramatic terror. Jacqueline, his wife, never returned to the Malfoy Estate. I could sense her influence in Severus, however; his life no longer seemed devoted to our friendship, and I became frightened that she would, suddenly, wrench his presence away from me in a moment. Thoughts such as these brought tears, despite the fact that I knew those tears would end Cassius' kindness and Grandfather's indifference. My world was forever changed.

Lucius returned to school with Evan, and for the first time I began to feel that he had become more isolated from our sheltered world than I had ever been. Strolling the halls of our manor I stared at the paintings of my ancestors, explaining their stories to Severus one by one. He was just as fascinated by their history as I was, and I made him promise me that when the time came for him to leave me for Hogwarts, he would teach me all the lessons he had learnt at school, so that my education might be as complete as his. Mostly, though, I longed to find a place for myself in that hidden castle – filled with as many secrets as my family's own; passages and pathways leading to shrine or citadel in which long-forgotten trysts were held with love, death and the divine. I hungered for their knowledge.

My mother held me close to her heart during these days; and I learnt the suffering she felt within at the thought of my father. His position at the Ministry of Magic, and in the Wizarding society, would be decided by that day that hung, low and dismal, in the coming year. She clutched at hope like a childhood toy – the comfort it afforded her dissipated in the realisation that I, her only son, had become one of the damned she so feared. As a werewolf, I posed as much of a threat on her reputation as on that of my father, and my family name. For the first time in my life I saw my Grandfather relieved that I was not the heir he had so ardently coveted; my Uncle Cassius sympathetic to not only the fate of the family, but of my own. Aunt Nicolette, usually distant and cold, took me her arms and comforted me when she found me weeping in my room one full moon, the heat of my blood more than I could possibly bear… Sarissa, who happened upon us, squeezed my hand and spoke more eloquently than I could ever have imagined.

"We're still a family, Remus," she murmured, her hand cool against my own. I felt Aunt Nicolette's tears trickling into my thin brown hair. "And families are never broken apart; suffering brings us closer together." And, with this, she leant forward and kissed me softly on my left cheek, and something in me froze, the blood slowed and my head began swimming from the depths of desire into the gaspingly cool air of coherence. I smiled weakly, and she left the room, her mother stumbling behind, the sobs still escaping her thin lips.

Most people believe that such tragedy would have pulled such a family in the way of hatred – such as with the death of my Grandmother. It seemed that the falling snow on Christmas became as soft and tender as soap-bubbles; and I can never remember a winter filled with such happiness as this one was. My father, oblivious to my condition, was not absent as usual, but his inadequacy was all the more heightened by the closeness of what I termed my 'new family' – the one I had always hoped for. How strange that the sudden ruination of my life might have led to my wish being granted. But, then, the world cannot survive without balance; it is the balance between magic and reality that tempers our fragile existence. Life had meaning once more.

I was reluctant to leave this world when that August day revisited: although my mother reassured me wistfully, and I could sense Severus approaching from the East Wing, terror gripped me with its clammy hands and drew me into the abyss. January, February, March, April, May, June, July… (and my ninth birthday)… the darkness enveloped me. Mother released a short, sharp shriek and hurried from the room. The last thing I heard was the key turn in the lock as I sat there, in the cellar of the Malfoy Estate, and the full moon rose overhead.

The transformation has begun.

***

I hope you enjoyed this little, introspective chapter from Remus. Please review! The best bit for most writers is reader reaction; whether it be good or bad. If you like it, tell me – if not, let me know WHY! See you all later! :)


	7. Early Life: Transformation

Another chapter! Whew! Can you believe it?

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J K Rowling; except for Alexander, Ariadne, Cassius, Nicolette, Roxane, Archibald, Sarissa and Raoul. The 'Bavarian Banshees' and 'Madrid Manticores' belong to me; although the 1966 Quidditch World Cup is probably hers. : ) 

I hope you enjoy this new chapter, and leave me lots of reviews! (Hey, I've written less on "By the Light of the Moon" than on "Playground Love", yet I've almost got the same amount of reviews on this one! Guess my writing has improved, huh? Either that or everyone really DOES hate Alex…) The formatting is screwed on this chapter in word; don't know if ff.net will change this. Oh well. The only *** break should be after I've described Remus' transformation. Ignore the rest. : )

**Transformation**

I felt like pins were pushing up through the skin of my hands, my feet, my arms, my legs and poking their pointed ends out like porcupine needles; they became softer as they emerged, the next layer pushing out covering them with coarse, protective fur. The blood was raging now, plummeting through my veins like rapids over a waterfall… my consciousness was on the raft that approached the drop, fighting the current with broken oars and losing hope. 

My chest began to itch and as I reached my hands down to scratch it was as if I saw myself for the very first time. A frightened scream broke free of my body, and as I fell to the ground my mind began to pound, the tiny raft teetering on the edge of doom. My mouth opened and I felt a growl escape; low, guttural, it caused my body to vibrate against the cool stones of the cellar floor. I struggled to hold onto my sanity, and noticed my mother had left a lantern here for me to see by. _You'll probably burn the manor down, the wicked voice inside my head whispered, and I saw my clothes, shredded and torn, lying before me, and the irony of the sensible shirt and trousers belonging to the thing I was made me laugh inwardly. The blood raged within me…_

The raft collapsed and descended over the never-ending waterfall – and I felt my mind careening down after it.

***

In these early years, I remembered little of the transformation from man to wolf; however, I remembered more from the transformation than I ever did as a full wolf. I would awaken in my Grandfather's cellar, my arms scratched, my legs covered in blood and my face bruised beyond recognition, with no recollection of how I had come by my injuries. Always with the same pile of torn clothes nearby, and occasionally the small bodies of unfortunate rats or possums that had strayed carelessly into my raging, bloody path. More often than not I would have no reasonable explanation for my battle scars, and queried my mother, full of fear, if there were any exits from the cellar other than the one she locked physically and magically on each full moon. She reassured me that there was only one exit, and that after seeing the mess of furniture that lay in pieces down below, she had no reason to wonder at the cause of my wounds. 

Surprisingly, the one thing always left unscathed was the standing mirror that had belonged to my Grandmother; Severus liked to tease me that as a wolf I must be very vain, his mocking remedied by a swift punch on the shoulder, and resulting in his acknowledgement that my strength had grown considerably due to my monthly 'exercise', as Uncle Cassius referred to it. I often wondered exactly what had caused Cassius' sudden approval of me; if anything I had expected my wolf form to be more of an embarrassment to his name than he could possibly bear. Instead, he took to hunting the woods behind our home in search of the elusive wolf who had given me his terrible gift, a pastime I found quite gruesome and abhorred violently. But, for the sake of peace in our household I received my Uncle's taxidermal presents happily, knowing that when Lucius' walked past my room that summer he shuddered visibly; refusing to speak to me in the halls or at the dinner table.

Evan Rosier had returned sheepishly in the summer of 1968; Sarissa had rejoiced to see him again. He was much the same as before, rampaging about the estate with Lucius' like idiots; however, this time they had brought home with them a new game from Hogwarts – Quidditch. Sarissa enjoyed sitting on the sidelines while Lucius and Evan rode their Shooting Stars above the Malfoy Estate. Grandfather, when he was home, watched also and directed them in the ways they should be flying, throwing, or playing in general. I finally discovered the importance of the heavy ball that had flown at my head on the Hogwarts train platform – and I dreamed of beating bludgers away on a Quidditch field, high above the crowd, not longing for the glory of a Chaser or the respect of a Seeker – but the reflex of a Beater. I knew that I was capable of it; but both my Grandfather and Lucius' shied away from inviting me to have a go. Severus told me about attending the Quidditch World Cup a few years before with his father, in which the Bavarian Banshees had lost miserably to Madrid's Manticores – but, because both teams had such poor seekers, the game had stretched on for almost eight hours! 

"By the end of it, Remus, I couldn't wait for it to end," Severus said, shaking his head. Thinking about it – eight hours of Quidditch – almost made my head ache from my desire to have witnessed it. "I was almost glad the Spaniards won – even though they did carry on about it an awful lot."

It is obvious enough by now that my father was not, and has never been, a guiding influence in my early life. Archibald Lupin was, quite simply, in the words of the entire Malfoy family, a fool. I was named after Remus Reginald Lupin, a man I have never met and has never displayed any interest in my life, werewolf or not, and was commonly spoken of as a squib – thus adding to the reputation of a foolish family. My mother, in what she termed her 'foolish youth', allowed herself to be romanced by Archibald, knowing him to be wealthy, stable and unattractive enough to be sure to jump at the chance to marry someone from a family such as the Malfoy's. He was. He did. 

After their marriage, so to separate herself entirely from the Lupin's, my mother insisted on residing with her family, to keep close to her mother, who was known to be in the grip of an unknown and fatal Muggle disease. She had suffered stomach pains soon after the birth of her final child, Lucius, but the family was not particularly worried. They believed that if Magical Doctors were of no help, then treatment by Muggle physicians, from which knowledge of the disease had originated, would surely lead to a cure. Lupin refused, and left my mother pregnant at her parent's house, choosing to sleep on a couch at the Ministry of Magic instead.

He returned eventually, but was always continually absent from most family gatherings, and, as would have already noticed, was not included in important family discussions. However, on the night of my first transformation, Archibald disappeared completely, never to return. What was even more unusual was the fact that, for several weeks, I barely noticed. With the loss of a father – Sarissa claimed she had seen him racing down the long driveway that connected the Muggle road with our Magical home in a crazed state – nothing much changed. My mother became more despondent than before, and constantly retreated into herself, but at these times I simply left her alone and she was soon as she was before. Severus had always been more male company for me than that of my father, anyway, and who was to say that I would not see him again? And I have, I am sure of it.

It was, most certainly, this loss of a father that allowed my family to draw me closer, to include me in their discussions and secrets. I was still too young, however, to venture into the realm of what my Grandfather and Uncle Cassius spoke of in their fireplaces late at night… but I heard whispers through the family of an unnamed threat appearing in England and assumed that was the danger of which the men in my family spoke. Even Raoul, Severus' father, looked haggard and worried whenever he came to collect his son, and as the days wore on Severus' eyes retained his father's look. I knew not to question, and was not concerned about the state of the world as I lived, quite happily, snuggled in the arms of a family that pulled me close to its heart. If my mother was indisposed it was always Aunt Nicolette who would tend to my wounds; Sarissa would confide in me secrets of the way she felt when Evan Rosier looked at her; and I smiled quite indulgently, congenially, and later when alone in my room giggled to myself – for no matter how silly I found Sarissa's confessions of love, I could never have divulged her secret, even to Severus, to whom they would have amused most of all. But then Severus was becoming distant, and no matter how I tried to pull him closer, back to me, I felt his friendship slipping away like sand through my fingers.

How strange these thoughts seem when glancing back on them? To think that, as a werewolf, I shed more tears at losing a friendship, or through laughing over the infatuation of my cousin than I did thinking of what I was! But, in this time of my life, which was filled with love and encouragement from all who surrounded me, who could feel neglected, or sad? Even the loss of my father barely stands out as an event in the year that was, in effect, seen as the loss of my innocence. I knew no guilt in these days; and since the advent of my change had only brought me closer to those around me, what did I need to fear? The only black spot within my golden summer was the thought of my education being lost to me. My mother had taken me to the Ministry after I had recovered from my first transformation, and I was now registered as a Beta Werewolf; she had also sent a letter in request of an interview with Professor Dippet in reference to my attendance at Hogwarts; something no doubt met with a guffaw by the crabbed old wizard. His reply was the typical form letter: _Our places are not determined by interview… blah, blah… should your son/daughter (the latter was crossed out) __not receive at letter inviting them to attend __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry in his eleventh year… blah, blah… variant methods of learning…_

Mother was furious, and Grandfather Malfoy issued a complaint against Armando Dippet immediately; calling for his immediate dismissal by insinuating that his grandson, Remus Lupin, was considered an outcast and, in effect, a squib by Wizarding society. I simply sighed and went back to dreaming about my career as a World-famous Quidditch beater; my vision only marred by the thought of a full moon rising during the World Cup Match, and my rapidly transforming body falling from my broom to the dense ground of the field, the fans deserting the stands in panic at the sight of Remus Lupin, a werewolf?! It seemed impossible. But dreams manage to stick with us for a lifetime, and even now nothing pleases me more than to pitch a bludger at the head of a rival team mate… it seems that my viciousness began to show quite plainly in my daydreams as well, not that I have ever noticed it before. The wolf simply became part of who I was, and who I am, and who I shall always be. 

In September I watched as Sarissa packed her trunk for Hogwarts; she kissed my cheek in farewell as Cassius' proudly led her to the Ministry car. Lucius appeared behind her, and in a gesture of goodwill extended his left hand to me, a smile playing at his lips. I grinned and shook it, feeling as if finally my family had come together in recovery after the tragedy of a lifetime. Watching as the car rounded the corner, I gazed up at my mother's dry eyes, and she leaned down to kiss me on my forehead.

"Don't worry, Remus," she murmured softly, her eyes luminescent in the dawn light. "I'll try everything, harass everyone, hurt anything… to get you there."

"I know, Mother," I said, the smile still lingering on my pale face. "And I'll do anything to get there."

And there we stood, her arms entwined in mine, as Lucius' and Sarissa headed to Hogwarts and I, Remus James Lupin, was left behind.

***

Please review! If you don't, I'll be kicking some serious Wizarding butt… not that anyone will care, since its only VIRTUAL wizard butt! : )


	8. Early Life: Separation

A-woo-hoo! Another chapter! Hope you're itching for a long one, 'cause that's certainly what it is!

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J K Rowling except: Alexander, Cassius, Roxane and Sarissa Malfoy; Raoul Snape; Jacqueline and Gustave Romuald. The poem is from "Kings Quest Six: Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow" – am I the only person who remembers that game? I learnt the poem off by heart ten years ago and have never forgotten it… see, I was obsessive even then! : )

By the by, I'd like to clarify the ages of the respective Malfoy/Lupin children (this is in dd/mm/yyyy format). Lucius (03/07/1955), Sarissa (14/03/1957) and Remus (17/07/1959) – just in case anyone was wondering! Plus, just so you all know, this is a FIVE-PART SERIES with NINE CHAPTERS in each part (not including prologue/epilogue). So, we're almost at the end of PART ONE: Early Years…. Yay! I'm sure you're all glad about that, too.

I hope you all enjoy the latest chapter of… BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON! Yeah! : )

***

**Separation**

That November, when the moon waxed and my patience dwindled, I heard my mother weeping late at night in the study that was now shared by my Grandfather and Uncle Cassius, and in my brief memory the only time a woman had been allowed in there for any reason other than a scolding (Sarissa locking Evan Rosier in the hall cupboard that summer was the most recent example). I dared not enter the dusty chamber that doubled as my Uncle's lair; but I knew that through the family grapevine the things of which my mother wept would soon come to my attention.

When I descended the stairs the next morning, my mother sat motionless at the foot of the stairs, her black Wizarding robes hung loosely about her thin, frail body. It was the first time I had ever seen her face so shrouded in grief, her body so fragile and useless when compared to the strength of her soul. She lifted her eyes to meet my own as my pace quickened to be at her side. Her eyes were red and tired, as if she had cried all night and never known any consolation from it. My own heart ached to comfort her, but I knew that my arms were not the ones she craved instinctively; I cursed my father for leaving her thus, to face a painful life alone.

Cassius appeared, exiting the parlour, and as he saw me I noticed that his normally cool, calculating blue eyes were tinged with scarlet also. He beckoned me to follow him into the parlour, where he sat me down in my Grandfather's chair and stood, hesitantly, above me. I pursed my lips and waited for him to speak.

"Remus," he began, his speech slow and deliberate, and my lips began to tremble as I listed all the possibilities in my mind. But I had never been prepared for the words my uncle uttered next. "Severus' father has died, last night, in St. Mungos."

Involuntarily my jaw slipped out of place and I sat there, gaping at my Uncle like a dead fish while he shielded my gaze from the tears in his eyes. "Mother…" I murmured, and it was as if the past year flooded through me with new force – Raoul's pained, haggard face each day of the summer, and Severus' growing distance from me. Little did I know exactly how the separation would lengthen shortly, forever, at my own weakness.

Cassius gasped as he held back his grief, and I felt my heart being crushed within my body as I thought of our pain when compared to his own; certainly, I had lost my own father but not to the grim hands of death, and he was not to be called a father by any account – I bore his name, and that of his family, but as a man he was not the sort I would have wished upon anyone. Kind, gentle, loving – these were words I attributed more so to my mother, and the Malfoy's than I could have to Archibald Lupin. As I thought more on the subject I felt as if, in comparison to my own life, Severus had been torn from a person as precious to him as my mother, or my Grandmother were to me. I sighed deeply at the thought of Severus' loss.

"You should head upstairs and change, Remus," Cassius whispered softly, so as to not let my mother hear him. "We shall visit the Snape's later this afternoon. Take one of Lucius' old black robes from the linen basket – they should fit you well enough."

As I left the room and ascended the stairs solemnly, every step feeling like a vein flattened in my best friend's heart, I heard my mother's low voice speaking softly:

"Raoul…"

When I reached the second floor I quickened my step, but my enhanced hearing, due to my transformations and the close proximity to the rising moon, left the last line coherent, without any doubt as to its meaning.

"My… love."

***

_Dearest Father,_

_My heart feels heavier than my head at this grief-stricken news. My condolences to the Snape Family; Raoul was always a good man, and a true friend to our family, I see that now. I know he was pure in blood, and in name, despite his lack of claim to wealth or title._

_I understand that Roxane is taking the news heavily. Give my love to my dear sister; my pain is undoubtedly but a shadow of her own. Allow her to be strong in her grief; tell Remus that his friendship with young Severus can only grow stronger through this grim event._

_My trivial school life seems petty and incongruent to this terrible bereavement. I am sad, my father, at the loss of such a competent ally in these, the darkest days I have ever seen. The shadow is rising, and the whole of Hogwarts mourns the passing of an Auror such as Raoul Snape._

_Give my love to Cassius also; the death of his friend will undoubtedly have affected him also. I shall be home at Christmas, father._

_Affectionately,_

_Lucius.___

***

_November 18th, 1968__, __2:16pm___

The wind blustered around the funeral procession as we walked, in time with the beat of a single drum, toward the sunken cemetery that lay in the valley below the church. Its touch was warm and dry; unusual for the cool morning that had preceded it. My mother's black veil shrouded her face and the blank stare that I knew was hidden beneath it; unlike Raoul's wife Jacqueline, who wept profusely during the entire ceremony inside the church and I was sure would continue as the coffin was lowered into the ground, my mother preserved her dignity now that the initial shock had passed.

Our ebony cloaks moved as one down the hillside, and as we reached the grave site I smelt the warm earth as the hot breeze attempted to blow us back up it. The smell was pungent, as if the soil so long accepting the bodies of the decomposing dead had become fused with the acrid stench itself. As I write these words, I can still taste it in my mind; intermingling with that of the ink and paper I see before me.

As Cassius and my Grandfather stooped to lower the coffin into the grave, the other pallbearers – mainly Raoul's fellow Aurors from the Ministry – held it level on the top, I noticed one of the men staring at me curiously. His hair was wild and unkempt; streaked with grey and his eyes – or, rather, I should say _eye, since one of them was glass and this was the one which held my attention – glowed at the sight of me. As the coffin settled and the Priest began to speak, I looked away and grasped my mother's waist, knowing the back of my mind that this man's eye was still focussed on my face; boring into me as I struggled to listen to the benediction._

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…" I heard the Priest proclaim; my attention still diverted by the unusual man. I glanced back at him quickly and saw his mouth contort in a grim, but comforting smile that flooded my entire body with calm. He held my gaze by his eye that was now turning bright blue! Terrified, I tried to look away but found that I was transfixed by him; I knew that with charisma such as this he must be a powerful man and one who was not to be trifled with. Smiling weakly back at him I managed to break his concentrating and gripped my mother tighter than before. Her hand lowered to stroke my hair softly, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed her nod to the mysterious man in greeting. The Priest had my full attention now; and I realised that my prediction had been correct – Jacqueline Snape was on her knees now, crying into the grave of her husband, Severus' arm hanging uncomfortably over her broad shoulders.

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; He gave his only Son so that we too might have everlasting life in Heaven at our passing –" I noticed that several of the other Wizards surrounding the grave smiled at this, and wondered in the back of my mind why Raoul had requested such a strange ceremony for himself. Later, with the knowledge given to me by my Grandfather, I learnt that as a child, he had been a Muggle – that he had been known as a _Mudblood, a term which has only recently gone out of our common usage due to a new government enforcing it. In the days of my childhood, and all those before me, it was as flippant a word as Sarissa had used it at my Grandmother's deathbed – like American novels from the nineteenth century condemned those with black skin to the term of __Nigger, so did the Wizarding world condemn those not of pure blood through __Mudblood. Those who use it now are ill-bred, ignorant wizards and witches; just as the men and women who use the other in America. It was through this word that I understood the burial to be a Muggle custom._

"– and may the love of God be with us all, evermore. Amen."

The ceremony over, a line of Wizards formed to offer their condolences to the widow and her son. I stood with my mother at the end, knowing that through our friendship with Raoul that our words would be the most important. My mind was in a tumult; as I looked into the afternoon sky my mind told me that the full moon would rise that night, and that I needed to speak to Severus most of all, to repair our friendship that was dwindling for reasons unknown to me. As the line shortened I caught Severus' eye, and he glanced away quickly. Confused, I looked around me and saw that Cassius had seen the interchange between Severus and I. His hand patted my shoulder reassuringly as he strode forward to speak to Jacqueline, my mother and Grandfather following. 

Severus darted aside and towards me, his black eyes cold like I had never seen them. I was startled by both the movement and his gaze, and jumped as he approached. He stood before me, his hands tucked behind his back and waited for me to speak.

"I… I'm sorry about your father, Severus." 

His eyes softened and lost the iciness of their previous glare; and he pursed his lips as he nodded, directing his stare to the ground. "Yes. So am I."

My heart tore within at the simple pain of his words. "Severus… I understand." I reached forward and clasped his cold hands in mine, noticing that his skin had lost its former glow and his hair was greasy and unwashed. "My father… he isn't coming back either. And, even though our fathers weren't anything like each other…"

"I know, Remus. You don't have to say anything." His eyes flickered up at me and I saw tears gleaming in the corners, threatening to break free. "It's just… my mother…" he trailed off and I glanced over to Jacqueline, who was looking at me as if I were some type of deadly caterpillar, biding my time before jumping and poisoning her son. "She says I can't see you anymore."

I felt the tears gather in my own eyes, and I exhaled slowly. "What? Why?" The situation became apparent: this was the reason for Severus' coolness over the last few months – his mother had told him that when his father died, our friendship would be over.

Jacqueline appeared behind Severus and took his arm roughly. He gasped in pain as she pulled him up the hill, our family trailing after her, my mother's veil flung back over her head and her eyes flaming in anger.

"Jacqueline! You can't do this – he's already lost his father, and now he has to lose his best friend too? You're heartless… you can't mean it!"

With a sneer Jacqueline turned and spat at my mother. "Raoul is dead, Roxane – and so are my ties to your family. Soon Severus will be at Hogwarts, and he won't need a…" she lowered her voice venomously, her face filled with utter hatred, "…_werewolf for his friend. Severus needs to be accepted, not ostracised! And, what with everything that's happened… I don't need an alliance with people like __you."_

Cassius' face curled up in anger. "Take him, then! We'll watch how you fare without us at your side during these times, Mrs. Snape… friends will be very hard to come by for a woman whose father died defending Grindelwald!"

My tears broke free as I watched Severus being dragged away from me; and I fell to the ground as my blood grew hot, my skin grew cold and the needles threatened to push out of my skin in rage. I couldn't bear it! I couldn't! "Severus!" I cried pathetically, my Uncle picking me up off the ground as my world went black.

***

My loss of Severus awakened in me a feeling of terror that day. What could I – a _werewolf – really do without friends at my side? I've often wondered about that November day, and whether the real reason for my separation from Severus was my affliction – or my mother's, or even my family's later demise._

Roxane Lupin, my mother, is a self-confirmed packrat. Going through her things always yields information about the past; no matter how long is takes for you to dig it out. Over the years I've searched for something to confirm the words I heard her whisper in the hallway the day Raoul Snape died; but to no avail. Recently, however, I found a new box of trash and treasure left over from her days at Hogwarts, and a photograph caught my eye in the midst of old homework and sweet wrappers.

I dug it out and stared at the two people, smiling and laughing into the camera, for hours on end. That's the worst part about moving photographs; they not only capture the moment but also part of the soul of the subjects – just like the native Aboriginals of Australia believed in their religion. Watching my mother, only sixteen, dressed in her Slytherin Quidditch robes with her arm around who could only have been Raoul Snape, both grinning at the lens, then poking each other mischievously with their broom handles, I knew that I had heard correctly that day almost thirty years previously. When I tired of their never-ending happiness I turned the photograph over to reveal a poem, scribed by a hand I didn't recognise, the dedication plain at the top.

_For Roxane:_

_What was it when I looked at you?_

_What pow'r has chained me through and through?_

_And binds my heart with links so tight_

_O, I cannot live without the sight_

_Of you.___

_What nameless thing has captured me_

_And made me powerless to flee?_

_What thing is it without a name_

_That brings my heart 'ere back the same_

_To thee?___

_The name of love cannot apply;_

_Its commonness does not descry,_

_The haunted, hunted, painful cry_

_That my heart makes for you._

_That 'ere my soul eternal makes_

_For you.___

I understood why they had never married; Snape was simply a poor Muggle-born without any claim to fame or wealth, and my mother was heiress of one of Britain's largest fortunes, daughter of not only an entrepreneur and philanthropist in the Wizarding world, but the eighteenth generation of the Malfoy family, whom could trace themselves back to Normandy in 1066. Still, in my heart of hearts I do believe that Grandfather might have permitted it; he loved Snape as if he were his own son and Cassius like his brother – if my mother had ever approached them about it. She married my father, a rich and pompous fool instead; and Raoul married Jacqueline Romuald during his stint in Switzerland as an Auror, daughter of Gustave Romuald, the French exile and right-hand man of Grindelwald, the famous Dark Wizard.

As I think of the sacrifices my mother made not only for her family, but for her name, I wonder at how people can be led so astray from the hearts and minds by such trivial things. But I respect them for it, despite these thoughts, for I have faced the same trials as them only in a different generation. Those who have suffered, have done so willingly; those who have sacrificed, have faced the future without apprehension – and who in this world of ours can claim such a thing? Many say that power corrupts, and that equal wealth and esteem should be the way of a modern world… but as the past has shown us, there will always be inequality, no matter what package it is sold under, whether it be communism or capitalism. We should, instead, acknowledge those who allow themselves to be dictated by their position for the good of the world; not those who try to rise above themselves. For, in our modern world, it is the sacrifices of the privileged that are ignored, not those of the proletarian.

For, what is Good, and what is Evil? To be good is to think of others; to be evil is to think only of oneself. Who knows what the world would be without both Yin and Yang…? None, for it is everywhere, and it is merely our duty to define it, and uphold it as doctrine, and for others to obey it. 

My mother sacrificed the love of a husband for the love of a family – in the modern world, if it were your choice, would you thinking of others, or only of yourself? I lost Severus, my first real friend, at the age of nine… and gave him up unwillingly. My history is testament to the horrors I would suffer later for my own selfishness, and for that of many others, just like me, around the globe.

***

I know Remmie is whining a bit, but you'll all understand it later… like he says… when more of his life is revealed. Now, review and make me write some more, okay? : )


	9. Early Life: Dumbledore's Accession

Yes, it's what you've all been waiting for… TA-DA! The new chapter of "BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON"! Yay! Isn't it wonderful, amazing, etc. – I've been missing-in-action (i.e. on holiday) from November 24th till December 4th; then for several days I had no internet access; then no inspiration; then Speech Night (my final one since I've now finished school! A-woo-hoo…!) – so now I'm writing again.

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, excluding Alexander, Roxane, Cassius, Sarissa, Vivien Travers, Tracy Macmillian, Professor Cendric, Neptune the cat, Jolly the House-Elf, and all those irritating little ltfd., grt., and rtd. things. (the first one is the only one that actually means anything [Latifundian]; the other two are normal [great] and [retard] and simply for my own amusement. Whatever).

I hope you enjoy this new chapter, and I little hellooo goes out to my dedicated readers Moony Lover, Piri Lupin-Snape and Clare. I hope you like it most of all!

***

**Dumbledore's Accession**

_February 28th 1969__, __7:56am_

"_And, so," Alexander Malfoy read, his face flushed red and eyes bright with excitement, "__after serving the Magical Schooling System for the past eighty-two years, Professor Armando Dippet retired yesterday, ushering in a new era at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the form of respected and loved Arithmancy teacher, Professor Albus Dumbledore."_

My mother looked down at me in wonder, before grasping my shoulders and pulling me towards her. "Remus, my Remus…" she murmured, her voice shaking as the tears of happiness, ones she had not shed in my memory, escaped from her body. "Keep reading, Father," she urged Alexander, and he nodded and pushed his reading glasses further up onto his nose.

"_Professor Dumbledore has taught at Hogwarts since 1922, originally taking the position of Transfiguration teacher (Prof. Minerva McGonagall, Bf. Ltfdn. Ght. 1957), and for many years has acted as Deputy to the retiring headmaster. A dedicated teacher, he is also famed for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, __for discovering the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and for his work on alchemy with his friend Nicolas Flamel. Albus Dumbledore's accession to the position of Headmaster at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry is certainly an attribution to the high respect in which he is held throughout the British Wizarding Syndicate, and in the entire Wizarding World."_

As my grandfather lowered the newspaper deliberately, my mother still holding tight to my shoulders, I noticed my uncle Cassius leaning against the opposite wall. His mouth twitched and he gave me the most thrilling smile I have ever experienced – nothing like his usual sneer, or the false grin he used in photographs. This smile thrilled through my veins which had only just begun to relax since my latest episode… he loved me. My uncle, who barely had time for his own child, loved _me, a fatherless outcast, and he believed that my success had been assured by that morning's news, and he loved me for it._

Cassius slunk out of the kitchen quietly as Shosanna bustled in, her arms full with plates of sizzling bacon and fried tomatoes. I watched him until he disappeared into the labyrinth of corridors that wormed their way around the Malfoy Manor and when I felt Mother squeeze my hand excitedly, and smelt the warm food as it lay before me on my plate, I smiled also.

***

_Dearest Father_

_The school is in an uproar! – no, Professor Sinistra hasn't been rampaging about soot in her telescopes again, Professor Dumbledore is Headmaster! Obviously you have been reading the Daily Prophet and already know this, but it doesn't make it any less of a joyous time at Hogwarts. Not to worry, though, Father – he hasn't given up his Arithmancy classes yet, and says my algebraic contusions are coming along well this term. Much relief for you, I'm sure!_

_Sarissa has become a terrible priss, Father – she's been traipsing around with Vivien Travers, and whenever Evan and I walk past them all I ever hear are whispers and giggles. Cassius really ought to knock some sense into her when she gets home: all that time at prep school shouldn't be wasted by a little ninny like Travers. There are some awfully fine Slytherin girls in her year, but she ignores them in favour of the worst of the bunch! Still, I'm sure even Travers is better than a Hufflepuff – the other day in Potions, Tracy Macmillan blew up her cauldron for the fourth time this year! Professor Cendric even enlisted a sixth-year Ravenclaw to tutor her, but like all of their kind, they simply can't help being stupid._

_I'm really getting sick of all these talentless Purebloods, Father – no wonder the Muggle-born intake is so high. Near-squibs are running about all over the place, making mayhem and nobody sees fit to stop it. Maybe now that Professor Dumbledore is in charge the standards upheld by the Founders Four will once again be considered._

_Love to you all – as Wizards committed to excellence!_

_Lucius_

***

Summer rolled in with the soft, fluffy clouds and cornflower-blue skies that were common at our secluded home. When the train, bursting full with Hogwarts students rolled in as well I writhed in the Malfoy cellar, too mad inside my own mind to notice such banalities as the return of cousins who continued to drift away, further and further, as each school year passed. Blue might the sky have been, but in my reality only the blood and the darkness dwelled, spurred by the pain in my fingertips, my hands, my arms, as though the very hairs were being plucked from them one by one. I felt my second anniversary ticking closer, and the thought of being without him – Severus – made it all burn fiercer than before, so that the blood grew thicker and the darkness expanded allowing the three day sojourn from my sanity to become never-ending and infinitely terrifying. 

When I awoke, Evan Rosier dwelled at our home for another summer and Sarissa had brought along her certainly-vacuous friend Vivien to confide in. Thankful that I was no longer required to listen as Sarissa poured her heart out in muddled adolescent pools all over her bedroom, her gain of a friend seemed to mock my own loss, and I found myself missing Severus with a deeper pain than I had felt in the time since we had been separated. Certainly, the thought of his beginning at Hogwarts in the fall made my own heart ache for my own acceptance; and, if both of us were at the same school I was sure we would find each other again, his mother would relent when she realised there was no use hindering our friendship, and life would be perfect again. Or, as near to perfect as I could find in both of our muddled, magical worlds.

Otherwise, the summer passed with the usual excitements – ringing for the house elves and ordering absurd foods from the kitchen, such as eye-scream, pickled toad-jam and elder-bury pies. More often than not, they would return with the item and we would scream with laughter, falling over ourselves at the sight of cold, unblinking eyes staring at us from the top of a cream puff with a green gunge positioned artistically to the side. Sarissa's cat, a complacent tabby she incongruously called Neptune flew up in flames one day in the parlour – neither Evan, Lucius or I could safely say which of us had caused it – and the three of us were sent, shoulders drooping but shaking all the same with laughter to Grandfather's office in the North Wing. We all received a severe talking to; apparently Neptune had been saved by Shosanna's quickly-cast Flame Freeze charm, but Sarissa refused to believe that he was fine and was weeping in her room, being comforted by Vivien and Aunt Nicolette. Uncle Cassius winked at us as we left the room, and I felt considerably excused after that. Unbeknownst to me, our family had not received a notice from the Improper Use of Magic Office concerning underage Wizardry, and led my Uncle to believe that this was a direct sign of my unharnessed magical ability. As I left, however, Evan and Lucius already rampaging once more ahead of me, nearly knocking over Great-Uncle Edmond (twice-removed) in his revered portrait, I heard my Grandfather whisper to my Uncle, and Cassius reply slowly and deliberately: "If he is what you say, Father, as Grindelwald come again, we will need minds for our task, as well as drones."

I never heard Grandfather's answer as Shosanna promptly whisked me away from the hall to my punishment – polishing the contents of the Malfoy trophy room, in which the shelves reached from floor to ceiling and were crammed full, the newest addition being a plaque presented to Lucius on his academic success in Arithmancy and Potions. Like the dutiful child I was I polished every inch of silver in the room, with a smile at the thought of Evan and Lucius clearing the humungous cellar, whose job would take them infinitely longer with their whining, cursing and laughing. Then my heart went cold at the thought of Severus, and I half-imagined him standing beside me, his hands covered in silver polish and his lips parting as he whispered a joke to me, and I suppressing a laugh as I glanced back at Jolly, the house elf who was keeping an eye on the two… no, now I was alone once more, and Severus was probably reading his acceptance letter to Hogwarts as my own eyes flicked over the trophy in front of me, a tribute to Myrtle Malfoy on achieving eight O.W.L's in 1942. I too dreamed of Hogwarts, but as the summer drew to a close my hopes dwindled. We had had no word from Professor Dumbledore, and Mother believed that Dippet must have destroyed the letter she had sent the previous year and decided firmly to write again once the school year commenced.

In August, while seated at the breakfast table our family owl, the one used for personal correspondence rather than Jules and Petrov, respectively Grandfather and Uncle Cassius' business owls, dropped a small note into my morning porridge. As I fished it out and shook the oats off, my mother stared at me curiously, her eyes limpidly awaiting my explanation. Chuckling underneath my breath I opened it and recognised the untidy scrawl immediately.

_Remus,_

_Must be quick… Mother still won't let me see you. Got my letter this morning! I'll be in Diagon Alley later in the week, but don't mind about meeting me, Mother wouldn't allow it. I don't feel as excited as I should, maybe that's because you're not sitting here telling me how wonderful it all is. Don't reply; Mother'd never let me read it._

_I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose…? I hope, anyway._

_Severus_

My mother's inquiring look grew much too irritating so, without glancing up, I muttered inanely: "Severus got his letter," and left the table. When I reached my room I could just feel the tears tickling my eyelashes_ and, hearing footsteps behind me, quickly shut the door behind me. The letter still in my hand, I sat down on my bedroom floor and traced the words with my finger, imagining his words appearing on the page as he scribed them hurriedly. "He must've sent it to Wizard Post," he murmured to himself, "to dissuade his mother. Laurie would've picked it up there when he got Mother's magazines."_

Somehow, Severus' brief message didn't comfort me as I had expected; yesterday I would have given anything for a word from Severus, but now I felt dead inside, my emotions dry, my friendship pointless. If he could make me feel like this in a note, what did it mean? I never wanted to see him again, at Hogwarts or anywhere else. My insides, in the typical way, churned at the thought… what had killed my affection for him? Or was this a fleeting hatred, spurred by him leaving me in the same way my cousins had done and would do again in three weeks? I didn't know. I still don't.

If this was depression, I dwelled in it – and I have felt the same again, numerous times, when I couldn't stand the world anymore or the people in it. But, unlike so many others I never seemed to despise myself. I hated my Mother, for stifling me; my Father for deserting me; Lucius for condescending to me; Grandfather for ignoring me – yet, at this moment Cassius appeared the hero, no longer the villain of earlier years. When I closed my eyes I saw his smile emblazoned on my retinas, flashing hopefully, allowing me a raw glimpse into his guarded soul.

Severus Snape left for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on September 1st, 1969. With him, he took something precious I had held to myself for years, hoarding it like a miserly old wizard… his friendship. It would be years until he would earn my trust once more, or until I would think of him as anything but the past. He would send me the occasional owl during the next year: flippant messages concerning teachers or his new friends, and ones that sliced into my soul like a scythe cutting down the fresh warm hay. The messages stopped, he no longer had any time for someone like me. I hated him. And, somewhere deep inside himself, he knew it – and it is only now that I wonder whether my actions caused his own fall from grace.

***

_Ms. Roxane Lupin (1957)_

_The Malfoy Estate, __Lancashire___

_The Honourable Professor Dumbledore,_

_I am appealing to you as a Headmaster, a Professor, and a modern Wizard. I know you to be gracious and kind from my own time at Hogwarts, during which you were employed as Professor of Transfiguration (1950-1957), and I beseech you as a modern Witch and as a Mother. Last year I attempted the same from your predecessor, Mr. Armando Dippet, but was blatantly refused my request. That request is for my son, Remus James Lupin, to attend __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am in no doubt as to his magical abilities, his stable mind or his physical fitness. However, at the age of eight my son was bitten by a werewolf in the woods surrounding my family's estate. As is common, on the thirteenth full moon following his bite, he transformed into the beast, and was registered accordingly with the Ministry of Magic as such. I no longer feel true concern for his abnormality, he has adjusted accordingly to his fate and rarely complains regarding it; he has always been a quiet child. However, it is now that the concern of myself and of my family that he should be educated, despite his condition. His mind has always been exceptional, and based on his abilities I have no doubt that he is already recorded in the Book at Hogwarts. _

_My father, Mr. Alexander Malfoy (Rtd. Idt.__ Ltfd.), has supported me in my care of Remus and is willing to impart any portion of funds needed to assist housing my son at Hogwarts. And so, my final question to you is this: should my son be discriminated against for something he cannot prevent? Like a Muggle-born, or a squib, my son should be accepted, trained and able to live normally despite his condition._

_I leave myself, and the fate of my son, entirely in your hands. I understand the safety of other students must be considered, as the well-being of the school and staff, but I appeal to you nonetheless. I await your reply anxiously._

_Yours Faithfully,_

_Ms. Roxane Malfoy (Graduate HSWW. 1957)_

***

Come on, review me – I can take it!


	10. Early Life: A New Moon Rises

Bloody hell, is this a long chapter! I really think it's the longest I've ever written, at nineteen pages (double-spaced, people, don't worry!) – which I think is quite an accomplishment. If you see anything which might be good to cut out, let me know because I'm still baffled by the length!

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, except for Alexander, Cassius, Roxane and Sarissa Malfoy; Vivien Travers, Shosanna and Edward Moss. Well, that was easy for a change. : )

I hope you enjoy this next chapter of  "BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON…" – since it's probably going to be the last one until after Christmas and New Year! Then, he'll be at Hogwarts, since this is the end of Part One: Early Life! Yay! Happy Holidays, guys – have fun! I know I will!

***

**A New Moon Rises**

And, so, my time of trial had begun. Once the flurried snowflakes begun to fall on the Malfoy Estate my mother was anxious; on receiving no immediate reply to her letter she fell into spells of silence, during which she would sit before the fire and dwell upon my future. I felt the tension spread through the rest of the household like a forest fire – grim faces confirming that which no letter had… yet. As the cool winter days kept the family inside we stagnated, Grandfather became ill and refused to leave his quarters for St. Mungos, despite all of my mother's vacant pleas. Only Lucius' return in December encouraged him; as the heir to the Malfoy name and fortune he was now uplifted and I shunned. Even Uncle Cassius kept to himself and could be heard, quill scratching furiously as he wrote pages upon pages of Merlin-knows what in his study well after midnight. Christmas for me was a non-event, since instead of eating turkey and plum pudding I found myself gnawing on wooden chairs in the Malfoy cellar once more.

Sarissa brought no Vivien home that winter, to the household's relief, and the two of us would sit together in her bedroom while she read from her second-year textbooks aloud and I absorbed every word like a dry sponge, wondering if she would now become the mentor and I, the unfortunate protégé. At twelve her emotions had developed remarkably: she no longer spoke of Evan Rosier or any other boy with such reckless abandon as that lost summer, which I could have questioned her about but refrained. Sarissa was now reserved; Vivien Travers and incessant giggling had given way to a polite, sweet-smiling young girl. I was sure that Cassius would've been pleased by the change, but he ignored his daughter as had become his habit of late.

January promised a new year, a new decade, and what I viewed as my final rejection by the Wizarding World. _A fresh start, I often allowed myself to think bitterly, __but not for the damned. I walked in on arguments between Cassius and my mother, her voice full of imploring tone and adjective, his abrupt, final and monosyllabic._

"It isn't right, Cassius… you know that much is true. After all that Mother ever did to save this family from shame, now you want to destroy it all!"

"No, Roxane. That's not what we're attempting – "

She blinked back tears and grasped her brother's hand for emphasis. "Don't do it, brother. For the family, don't do it."

"That's exactly who I'm doing it _for, don't you understand?" Exasperated, he shook her away and ran his fingers through his hair haphazardly. "It's been too long, too hard, this way. Times are changing… and he's a good man, Roxane. I remember him from school; he was brilliant then, even more so now – our world needs him to save us all. He's a good man."_

Her hands flung upwards in anger, mouth pursed and cheeks crimson. "How can you say it… such lies, Cassius! After all I've sacrificed, all Mother – "

"Mother's dead, Roxane."

Her anger turned to frightened sobs as she sunk into the nearest chair and Cassius stood awkwardly in the centre of the parlour, his blunt words resounding within himself as he muttered softly: "He's a good man. I know that much." And he left her there, the door to his study closed firmly and defiantly behind him, with an order not to be disturbed.

I indulged in reading during the quiet days which flickered by like weak candlelight; on finding a book of Muggle mythology I read something about myself that made me smile fatefully. In Roman mythology, I and my brother Romulus were cast into the River Tiber, raised by a she-wolf, and together founded a city on Palatine Hill – until I mocked my brother and was slain by his hand. Fascinated by the irony of it all, I wondered at how this discovery might influence my thinking – more than anything, I pondered over who was my own potential Romulus. When I had exhausted the possibilities I tired of the game and almost forgot the entire myth; however, something in my mind has always lingered on it since, as if my name had sealed my fate in more ways than one.

During my childhood there were many clues that lead directly to the dark times ahead, beginning with my grandmother's death and heightened by the growing friction between my mother and the rest of her family. She had truly inherited her own mother's pride in honouring the family name, but could never be called on to take her feelings to extremes. Certainly, her mother had died from a Muggle illness that, in the end, denied her even a voice to make her opinions heard, but she saw this merely as a part of life. My Grandfather, who was beginning a descent into senility was lead freely by Uncle Cassius, whose emotions were easily transformed into deep loves and blazing hatreds. The line on which either side these feelings fell was hard to define with him, and even more difficult to maintain. Although he revelled in his iron will and strong opinions, they were ever changing, and usually when they fell to the wrong side he never bothered to switch them to the better. This was his failing, and one that I have seen passed down to my Uncle Lucius, now half the man he was with twice as many things to say.

As spring approached, a new moon rose steadily – and whether it would bring with it good or evil, none of us were sure in our own minds… or in our hearts.

***

_Headmaster Albus Dumbledore_

_Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and __Wizardry__, __Scotland___

_Dear Ms. Lupin,_

_I apologise profusely for my idleness in responding to your letter received __September 18th, 1969__, but due to the seriousness of your request I required much time to ponder, and to make my decision regarding your son, Remus James Lupin._

_However, before my decision can be made I feel that I need to meet with you and discuss both the advantages and the problems raised by the education of your son at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the extent of his lycanthropy. I await your owl concerning the date; any time following the 21st of February should be sufficient, on the wane, for I am eager to meet Remus as well._

_I apologise again for the lapse in my correspondence._

_Yours Faithfully,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

***

_March 1st, 1970__, __9:22am___

"Must we, Mother?" Remus looked rather disdainfully at the pot of floo powder she offered to him as he shrugged on the new cloak his Grandfather had bought him especially for the interview. Roxane rolled her eyes with irritation and pressed the bowl into his hand, pulling her own cloak over her sapphire-blue dress robes. Remus knew better than to push his mother further when she was as moody as this so he silenced himself and sighed defeatedly.

"What's wrong now, Remus?" she asked absently, not looking at him as she stoked the kitchen fire fiercely. "Shosanna! We're leaving now!" Roxane's voice echoed throughout the labyrinth of halls surrounding the room and Remus winced at the noise. His senses were still tender since his last transformation, which had been rather a painful one. Roxane had flippantly murmured something about hormones when he had told her about it, as if her mind were not focussed on the subject.

As Shosanna bustled in, her apron covered in a thick layer of dust and grime – undoubtedly a result of Grandfather Malfoy's request that someone clean and re-catalogue the second-floor library – she beamed at Remus and bent down to pinch his cheek excitedly. "Master Remus, today will be very happy for you, no? You will meet the great Albus Dumbledore, and see the castle of Hogwarts – I remember how marvellous it seemed when I first saw it, when I was a girl…" Shosanna was receiving a pointed look from Roxane to hurry up and she laughed nervously, releasing her grip on Remus' cheek which he rubbed softly. "Ah, but you forget it all eventually, Master Remus, and it is just a big draughty castle in the end… I doubt my joints would ever give me peace if I were there again – "

Roxane pulled Remus toward the fireplace and he grasped a little of the grey powder in his fingers. "Just remember to say it loudly, darling," she murmured in his ear, Remus giggling softly from the tickling sensation her breath produced. "Shosanna, don't forget to turn the embers; I'll be right behind you, Remus."

Stepping up as close to the flames as he dared, Remus threw the floo powder into the fire and shouted, "The Three Broomsticks!" as loudly and clearly as his quiet voice allowed. Everything around him went green as the flames enveloped him, and he stood as still as possible, frightened out of his wits as the hearths went by in a flash of orange. _I hate this, I hate this, I hate this… he thought until he was interrupted by his landing, covered in ash and soot, on a hard wooden floor and a place completely foreign to him. Disoriented, he forgot to roll out of the way to leave room for his mother and as he climbed to his feet he was knocked down again as she appeared underneath him._

"Remus, I've told you before…" Roxane pulled him up beside herself and smiled with nostalgia at her surroundings, her son's mistake long forgotten. She was reminded once again of her youth, and her schooldays that were not as long ago as it often seemed in her present life. She removed her cloak and took Remus' from him, brushing off the soot haphazardly with her hand. A familiar face appeared in the corner of her eye and she started momentarily. "Rosmerta?" she questioned happily, and as the face nodded Roxane rushed towards her and hugged the woman, Remus looking on in wonder at his mother and her apparent friend. "I didn't know you were working here?"

Rosmerta smirked prettily. "You'd be the only one, Roxane – undoubtedly because your father hasn't let you out of the house in years." Roxane opened her mouth to protest but was shushed immediately. "You know it's the truth, so don't bother denying it… but who is this little boy, then? Your son?"

Smiling weakly at the vivacious Rosmerta, Remus hurried over and extended his left hand. "How do you do?" he asked tentatively, and much to his surprise he was pulled off the ground and into a hug instead. 

"This is Remus," Roxane said, adding a sigh at the end of her sentence that troubled her son. "He's Archibald's boy." 

Rosmerta returned Remus to the ground and rose once more to look at Roxane, who was looking rather dejectedly at the door. "All the same, it's good to see you again. Stay for a Butterbeer – or maybe you'd prefer your old usual?"

She shook her head. "We've got to be getting up to the castle – I have a meeting with Dumbledore this morning."

Knowing better than to ask questions, Rosmerta entreated her to come back for a drink when the interview was over so they could catch up; Roxane agreeing although she knew that instead she would take the Floo from Hogwarts and avoid contact with her old friend. _I haven't seen her in years… and who knows what that means? You can't trust anyone these days. I've got to stop living in the past and face the fact that my family mightn't have a future, the way Cassius is carrying on. That man… he makes me think of terrible things, like when Remus was a baby and I'd hear voices warning me, threatening me – and of the afternoon in the woods when he was given the bite, my horror, my pain. Dementors. It finally clicked in Roxane's brain, the way she felt when she was in his presence. __That man makes me feel the way Dementors do… like I'm reliving past pain; Mother, Remus, Archibald – everything. That man…_

The road from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts was simply steep enough to tense the calf muscles in Roxane's legs, and she knew that from her lack of exercise the past few years she really needed to concentrate on getting up that hill rather than think morbid thoughts.

"Mother, what's that?" Remus pointed to a rather dilapidated old house sitting further up the hill and Roxane breathed deeply, knowing that soon she would be puffing like a steam train, struggling against the steep mountain.

"Remus, don't point – it's just an old house, a shack."

He quietened, then as they drew nearer it seemed his curiousity got the better of him and Remus couldn't seem to control it. "Do you think it's haunted, Mother?"

Roxane sighed, her breathing raspy and like a fire in her chest. "Probably, Remus." This signalled an end to the conversation, and Remus clung to his mother's hand as they trudged onwards to Hogwarts.

Remus caught the glint of sunshine reflecting off the lake as they reached the train station, and he was surprised to see no carriage waiting for them. _Lucius always says that whenever they get off the train, the carriages take them the rest of the way to the castle. Except for the first-years, because they cross the lake in little boats instead. How exciting! Lucius might even be waiting for us, or Sarissa! Or, even, Severus… I might see him in the hallway, leaving his classroom, books on one arm and a friend on the other. No, I won't. I promise myself I won't._

These thoughts kept Remus' mind away from the daunting prospect of the never-ending drive that lead up to the castle gates, at which they were met by a moderately-sized older man, whose beard was long and wispy, streaked with grey; and a younger man who was at least seven-feet tall, probably more, and made Remus, who was small for his age, feel like the size of a garden gnome in comparison. Roxane greeted them cordially. "Groundskeepers Ogg, Hagrid – how are you both?"

Ogg, the elder of the pair, reached for Roxane's arm and she accepted his aid willingly. "Very well, thankee, m'lady. It's been quite some time since ye've been back to 'Ogwarts."

"Yes, I believe it has." She gestured to Remus, who was still gazing up at Hagrid in bewilderment. "This is my son, Remus Lupin. We have an appointment with the Headmaster?"

"Aye, that's why he sent us down 'ere. I'll be retirin' soon, so's I'm doin' as much as I can 'til it's time ter go. Next June'll be the end o' my time 'ere at 'Ogwarts." Ogg appeared visibly despondent by this news, and Roxane patted his arm reassuringly as they reached the castle doors, until the sight of a tall, black-haired witch with a stern expression standing in the doorway caused both Ogg and Hagrid to bow deferentially and hurry away with a nod to Roxane and Remus in farewell. The witch smiled briefly at Roxane before turning and beckoning them both to follow her inside Hogwarts.

As they entered, Remus saw the huge hall before him open up and gazed around himself in awe. Even Roxane appeared visibly affronted by the castle; she had not been back in twelve years and it made her eyes grow warm with tears at the sight of the Great Hall, in which she had sat every day happily, and without the worries she held now. She could almost imagine herself at the table draped in green cloth, her friends surrounding her – Rosmerta, Niamh, Katrina… and Raoul. _Strange how I can't seem to wish the same for Remus, she thought sadly, __for even friends are a liability in these times. Ignorance truly is bliss… bliss that Remus may never know. Roxane noticed clouds gathering in the corner of the ceiling, one that was bewitched to mirror the sky outside, and felt thankful that she would not need to walk through it. __I'll never brave that hill again. When did I get so old?_

Remus was sad to see the Great Hall disappear behind them, with its long tables and colourful decorations. He knew from what Lucius had told him about Hogwarts that Slytherin always sat at the green table on the far side of the hall, and somewhere in his heart dwelled a fear of being a Slytherin. He abhorred the red table as well, its golden lions embossed on every square inch available. _I don't think I'd like to be a Gryffindor, Remus thought, weighing his options up in his mind. __Or a Hufflepuff – as he spotted the bright yellow table to his left – __It's simply my lot in life to be a Slytherin, I suppose. All the Malfoy's have been, for centuries past. Grandfather even said that he believed that Salazar Slytherin himself bestowed upon us the honour when he helped create the Sorting Hat! The last table Remus saw was covered in cloth the colour of royal blue, with plates decorated simply, a single hawk central to the design. __Ravenclaw.__ Home of great minds… the home I'd like to be my own. As he continued to follow the tall witch and held on tightly to his mother's hand, Remus thought of nothing but Ravenclaw; of eating with Ravenclaw, sleeping in the Ravenclaw dormitories… and, wearing blue Quidditch robes as he hit bludgers right and left, toward Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and even – should he think it? – Slytherins. _

As his mind raced with the possibilities, Remus barely noticed that the stern witch had left them and they were now climbing a narrow staircase that forced him to drop his mother's hand and walk behind her slowly, for the hill had taken a definite toll on Roxane's stamina. A clock chimed twelve in the distance, causing Remus to look up in wonder before it rang out another fifteen dongs in succession. "Broken," Roxane whispered to herself, and Remus nodded as he pulled out the pocket watch his Grandfather had given him for his tenth birthday. _10:58am__._

They halted at the top of the stairs, and Roxane knocked briskly, but not impertinently, at the wooden door that stood in front of them. From the room beyond, Remus heard a strong, husky voice call for them to enter. He watched as his mother turned the doorknob and they entered the office of Professor Albus Dumbledore.

Remus was amazed by the objects that surrounded him, placed on sturdy shelves that filled the room from floor to ceiling. He kerbed his enthusiasm, however, and extended his left hand to Dumbledore, much to the embarrassment of his mother. "How do you do, Professor Dumbledore?" His voice rang clear in Dumbledore's ears, and a smile spread across the old wizard's face as he gripped Remus' left hand with his own.

"Very well, thankyou, Master Lupin." Gesturing for him to take a seat, Dumbledore resumed his position in the high-backed chair of his liking and beamed at Roxane to reassure her confidence. "I'm very pleased to meet you here today, Remus – and to see your mother once more. One of our greatest Slytherin chasers, I believe? And an excellent student, especially in Potions, as well." Roxane blushed with his comments, and Albus returned his attention to Remus. "It appears you have inherited your mother's mind, Remus – she informed me of your progress with the preliminary studies most children from magical families complete before attending Hogwarts."

Remus shyly nodded. "I enjoy it also, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore clapped with excitement. "Of course! Magic is not simply about facts and figures, theory or practice – Magic is often just for the fun of it. What else would be the point of a Jelly-legs curse if not to amuse the caster?" His voice turned serious now, and when he looked at Remus this time the boy felt guilty for his previous remark. "But magic can be a dangerous thing in itself, Remus – you know that better than anyone. If not for magic, you would not suffer monthly – if not for a silly mistake made thousands of years ago, you would not be here, requesting my permission to attend Hogwarts. It would already be decided." Dumbledore smiled again, and at once Remus felt better. Noticing the boy's pallid expression, he reached inside his desk and pulled out a Chocolate Frog for Remus. "With your mother's approval, of course," and with Roxane's hasty nod Remus grasped for the sweet and devoured it slowly. "Ah, chocolate," Dumbledore mused aloud, his hands now resting on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling above him, "one of the greatest stimulants known to man. One taste of chocolate is enough to combat even the feelings of pain emitted by a Dementor, or so it is taught."

Remus felt better already, with the chocolate melting happily in his mouth and with Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes away from his own for a moment. For the next half an hour they chatted about trivial things, like the next Quidditch World Cup and the recent discoveries made in the world of Astronomy, until Dumbledore kindly asked Remus if he would stand outside his office for a moment, so he might speak with his mother alone. He shook hands with the Headmaster again – this time with his right hand – and pocketed another Chocolate Frog before leaving, his heart light and singing with happiness.

Roxane had felt her own heart leap for joy during the interview, and now she knew that Professor Dumbledore would tackle the difficulties arising from Remus' transformations. His eyes twinkled as he re-seated himself and turned to Roxane. _A family of such brilliance, he thought exuberantly, __and Remus, I can see a bright future in his mind. We will need many of his kind to fight the rising tide – he could be recognised forever for it. Let us hope that he will not succumb to the evil side of the magical world, rather to force of good. _

"Ms. Lupin, I believe that your son is exactly the type of child Hogwarts needs – not only for his own benefit, but for the benefit of the pupils surrounding him. Ignorance of lycanthropy merely creates fear and loathing in the magical world."

Roxane smiled before responding. "Yes, Headmaster. I have always thought the same – that fear of a name creates even more fear of the thing itself. However, I do not think that Remus' condition should be revealed to any other than the staff at Hogwarts; not only for my son's safety, but also for the peace of mind of students and their parents."

"Of course, Ms. Lupin. Now it is simply a case of finding a solution to Remus' monthly absences. I have it on very good authority that Professor Sprout has recently acquired an adolescent Whomping Willow for the task. And, I can assure you entirely that Ogg, our current groundskeeper will have the sufficient training to assist Remus to the trapdoor underneath it – leading to a deserted shack just outside of Hogsmeade. I can also assure you that only the most trustworthy wizards and witches will have knowledge of your son's hideaway – although the entire staff must be informed of his condition. Is this plan satisfactory?"

Roxane felt weak at the knees with delight. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore…" she murmured softly, her eyes filling with tears. "You can't understand how I feel right now – for Remus to finally have a chance; everything seems perfectly surreal."

Standing, Dumbledore grasped her hand in his own and Roxane stood also, despite her shakiness. "I'll take that as a yes, then, Ms. Lupin?" He looked into her eyes, and some part of him recognised the carefree girl he had once known, so many years ago, sitting in the back of his Transfiguration classroom, the same hand he held now enclosed inside that of Raoul Snape, his prized student. _What a pair, he remembered contentedly, __why do things have to change? I've lived nearly one-hundred and twenty years, each one of them glorious, beautiful – but never the same. I suppose that is why; but people should never need to know the pain I'm sure this woman has. Releasing her from his grip, he said slowly: "Remus should receive his letter in July, Ms. Lupin. Until then, I await September anxiously… as I am sure that you will also." _

Looking slightly disoriented, Roxane wiped the tears from her face and, her legs still weak, opened the door of Dumbledore's office to rejoin her son. Turning back, she smiled again. "Thankyou, Headmaster," she whispered before closing the door behind her and descending the stairs. 

Albus Dumbledore wandered over to Fawkes' perch and stroked the phoenix lovingly. "Brilliant minds, Fawkes, every one… if only so many weren't tempted by the Dark Side." Fawkes hummed merrily back, and Dumbledore laughed bitterly. "I suppose you're right, Fawkes – without them, life would get awfully boring."

***

The train whistled loudly, signalling its departure, and Remus James Lupin struggled to extricate himself from his mother's arms. "Mother, please, I've got to go…" he trailed off as she kissed him again, her face wet with proud tears. Cassius looked on in amusement as he farewelled Sarissa with a forgettable wave. "Mother!" Remus pushed her away tenderly, but forcefully, and Roxane pulled her handkerchief from her pocket to dry herself. "I've got to go." _And, you're embarrassing me, Remus added to himself, with a soft smile for his Mother as jittery fourth-years giggled at the fuss being made. _

Lucius appeared suddenly at his side and Remus jumped. "You look after him on the train, Lucius," Roxane said, rather harshly. "He's frightened, poor boy. Look after him." 

Cassius nodded to his brother sternly, causing Lucius to laugh nervously. "As if I wouldn't, Roxane! After all, it's Remus' first time, and I remember how nerve-wracking my first trip on the Express was… at least we got here in plenty of time."

Roxane's attention was back to her son, and she waved her handkerchief at him as Lucius, with Evan in tow, dragged him away from her and onto the Hogwarts Express. Cassius gripped his sister's arm as the train pulled away, and Remus stared out at his mother with a grin on his face. "The time will fly, Roxane – soon he'll be home with friends like Lucius, racing around the Estate like wild things and ending up in Father's office half the time. You can't keep them forever."

"I know, Cassius. I'm glad he's gone… I just wish that things might've been, well, _different – he needs a father really, and Merlin knows Archibald wasn't much of one to begin with." She felt her brother tense at the mention of her estranged husband's name, and she squeezed him closer towards her._

"Are you sure you're all right, Roxane? I can speak to Lupin, make him realise what a fool he's been, deserting his responsibilities like this – I always said that family was a bunch of cowards."

"I _know, Cassius." Roxane sighed as they began to walk back to the barrier, their arms still tightly linked. "Don't worry about me. There's never been a need. I'm fine."_

But, deep inside her heart, Roxane barely believed it, and the thought of so many months without her son by her side to fill the gap Archibald had left – overflowed, actually – seemed more than she could ever bear.

Remus watched as his mother and uncle disappeared from sight and finally leaned back from the window to find Evan and Lucius gone from the compartment. _Silence. After spending an entire summer with the two of them, their noise had become even more of a grinding pain inside his head that usual. Sarissa, her nose buried inside a book, sat in the opposite corner – away from the window – and Remus barely noticed she was there. He sat back and relaxed for a moment before he heard a knock on the window of the compartment door. Eyes flickering open, he saw that Sarissa had not even looked up and that another boy of his age was standing outside the door, and Remus leant across to open it. The boy was tall for his age, with dark green eyes and ash-blonde hair that seemed to flop over his face at odd angles. _

"Hello," Remus said hesitantly, and even Sarissa ventured a quick glance at the boy before returning to her book. Extending his left – correcting himself – his _right hand, he said in a friendly voice: "I'm Remus Lupin. Would you like to sit down?"_

He dropped heavily into the seat beside Remus, their hands still twisted around each others. "I'm Edward Moss – from Canterbury, and thanks so much. The train's so full today that this was the only compartment with a spare seat. Where are you from?"

Remus smiled at the boy, finding his brash introduction amusing and liking him instantly. "Manchester, or thereabouts. What year are you in?"

"First, worst luck! I've been looking over our textbooks, and you won't believe how easy it all seems – just as long as you've followed up your preliminary lessons well. You're a pureblood, then?"

Nodding, Remus looked at Sarissa with amusement. "Yeah… from the high and illustrious perch of the Malfoy family." Edward looked confused, and Remus laughed. "My mother is a Malfoy, and the girl in the corner is my cousin, Sarissa."

Edward grinned at Sarissa, who quickly shoved her head behind the book she was reading shyly. "So, your father would be…"

"Dead." Remus was silent, and Edward decided against further questioning. They continued to talk, both about the things they would be learning during their first year, which house they might be sorted into, and, finally, Quidditch. Remus was explaining the importance of a Dopplebeater Defence in the last match between the Falmouth Falcons and the Chudley Cannons (the Falcons won, of course) when a boy paused at the window of the compartment and peered inside. Sarissa looked up from her book and was surprised to see Severus Snape looking at her, his black hair drooping over his pale face as he gazed inside. She smiled up at him and his expression changed from one of interest to an annoyed scowl. Glancing at Remus, who was unaware of Severus' presence and instead listening intently to Edward Moss' defence of the Chudley Cannons as a great Quidditch team – "'_We shall conquer,' Remus… they just haven't conquered recently." – Sarissa was perplexed and, when she looked back into the corridor, Severus was gone._

END PART ONE

***

Please review! Especially since this is my longest chapter EVER! See you all in 2003 – for Part Two: Hogwarts, and some more fun and games in the world that is Harry Potter… my creepy take on it, anyway! : )


	11. Hogwarts: First Year

Yay! It's another LOOONG chapter! (This one was 25 pages double-spaced, 14 normal. Oh well, lucky you I guess!)

DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling (who, I believe has just turned in her "Order of the Phoenix" manuscript… since its been given a release date of June 21st 2003!! DOUBLE YAY!). However, Alexander, Sarissa, Ariadne, Cassius, Nicolette and Roxane Malfoy, Vivien Travers, Edward Moss, Professor Cendric, Professor David, Geraldine, Roland and Benjamin Mulciber (excluding their last name), Raoul Snape (ditto), Christian Jacobs, Raïssa Garne, Mr. Norman and Clarice Jacobs, and the _very cool_ Bernard, Emilie, Heléne and Rosaline de Pélagrie.

Okay, "_Spook-ki-ki-kee" is from __The Talented Mr. Ripley FILM (Dickie/Jude Law says it on the train to San Remo); and does anyone else see some little correlations between __my interpretation of the young Lucius Malfoy with the young Michael Corleone (from "The Godfather". In the film I'm talking about Al Pacino). A little bit of necessity, I suppose._

Well, HAVE FUN—and don't forget to review "By The Light Of The Moon"!

***

**First Year**

_October 20th, 1970___

_Dearest Mother,_

_I still can't believe I am actually here, at Hogwarts, writing to you—from my first-year dormitory, my blue pillow propped up behind me and my friends screeching downstairs as they try to finish their Potions homework… it still seems like a dream, Mother._

_Thankyou for your letter, and for Grandfather's—Lucius and Sarissa keep cornering me in the hallways, disbelief in their eyes—and for your happiness that, not Slytherin, but Ravenclaw has called me home. Sarissa was saddened that I wouldn't be with her this year; I think she was counting on me since she fought with Vivien last year but I am sure that she will soon make new friends. She said that, even so, "brains can be better than ambition," and your letters relieved me of my worry. Evan, whenever I see him about, has taken to calling me 'Loony Lupin', since I must be crazy if I'm not in Slytherin. He's such an idiot!_

_So far, most of my schoolwork has been above-average, or so my professors say. I adore Potions; something about it is satisfying, that there is always a right answer, and a right way to preparing a cauldron. However, Professor McGonagall believes that I need to work extra-hard in Transfiguration, which I can't seem to grasp. I simply don't see the point in turning snuff boxes into mice—it always gives me a dead feeling in my stomach. But I will do my best, for you, Grandfather and for Uncle Cassius. How is Aunt Nicolette, by the way? I hope she has recovered from her flu, since I would like to see her again at Christmas time, if I come home, that is. Don't be shocked, Mother—as I'm writing this I practically feel the daggers you are shooting towards Hogwarts for making me want to stay… Edward Moss, who has three older sisters at Hogwarts, tells me that Mr. Ogg, the gameskeeper, and Mr. Hagrid bring gigantic fir trees into the Great Hall and light them with millions of tiny candles on the branches. I'd love to see it for myself._

_I'm feeling a little weak, but thankyou for your concern, Mother. On the fifteenth I was given a small room in the dungeon, due to the fact that the Whomping Willow was still being tamed by Professor Sprout. Professor McGonagall made excuses, saying I was rather ill with the flu (caught from Aunt Nicolette, no doubt…) and needed seclusion in the Hospital Wing—no visitors allowed. My transformation was as usual, a little more painful than it used to be but I suppose that is natural? I'll have to ask Madam Pomfrey; she'd likely know more about it than me, or Mr. Ogg when he collects me for my first descent under the _Willow___. That's Black Friday, Mother—how fitting._

_My friends don't suspect a thing—and all the better for them, really. Edward—I met him on the train, Mother, I think you'd like him—is one of the __Canterbury__ Mosses, and the only way he'd ever be dangerous is if he made me laugh in Defence Against the Dark Arts… Professor Mulciber is quite strict, really. Apparently he knows Uncle Cassius, so he likes me reasonably well. My other good friend, Narcissa Lestrange, reminds me of Sarissa—minus the boy-craziness of a few years ago. The three of us rule the other first-year Ravenclaws, but then they're all too bookish for us! Never want to have any fun, worst luck… I'd like to invite Edward and Narcissa over this summer, if it's alright with you and with Grandfather. _

_Lucius is studying hard this year, or so Sarissa tells me—I don't know about that, but the first Quidditch Match of the season was on last Saturday, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, and Lucius was definitely Wizard of the Match! He's a Chaser, as you know, but he's played reserve up until now apparently, only ever playing when someone breaks their arm and doesn't want to go on—which doesn't happen often! I felt really proud to see my Uncle, slicing through the cooling air, Quaffle in his hand ready to pitch it through the goal posts! It was such an exciting match that everyone cheered on Slytherin, despite disliking them so intensely… which is something I don't understand, Mother. Have they always felt like that? Why is Slytherin the hated one, Gryffindor the uplifted one, Hufflepuff the downtrodden and Ravenclaw the clever house? I'd rather be a Slytherin than a Gryffindor—but I'm a Ravenclaw, so it doesn't really matter anyway. Lucius secured the match, anyway, so I'm sure Grandfather will be especially proud of his victory. And Uncle Cassius, and Aunt Nicolette, and Sarissa and—you. Mother, having a large family isn't always the greatest thing, but other times it feels better having a lot of people behind you, supporting you… making you feel worthwhile. I love it right now._

_Give my love to everyone, and tell them that, "YES!—Hogwarts is everything I ever imagined!"_

_Remus.___

***

_November 12th, 1970__, _5:33pm____

The Great Hall was alive with life and laughter as Remus sat down to dinner with his two best friends. Edward was attempting to describe the strange boy he'd noticed glaring at him from the Slytherin table while Narcissa and Remus giggled softly into their pumpkin juice and mushroom pie.

"So, he had _black hair then, Ed? Sounds __spooky…!" Narcissa waved her hands around in the air, Edward tossing his head as he pretended to laugh._

"Really, you guys—I'm being serious!"

Remus began tapping his index finger on the edge of the table, imitating a drum beat. "_Spook-ki-ki-kee…"_

This time Narcissa snorted her pumpkin juice across the table, the majority of it landing on Edward's robes. As he wiped them dry, with an annoyed smirk at Narcissa, he noticed Professor McGonagall appear behind Remus' head, a sombre look on her pale face. "Good Evening, Professor," he mumbled as he scrubbed at the wet patches with the edge of his napkin.

Turning to look up at her, Remus noticed Professor McGonagall's lips purse in consternation as she began to speak. "Evening, Moss, Lestrange." She then glanced down at Remus, and her eyes flickered toward the ceiling of the Hall, in which an almost-full moon rose in the sky. "Master Lupin, I am sorry to tell you that your Grandmother has just passed away." Remus' mouth gaped; not only as he knew he must, but at the reference to his long-dead grandmother.

"My Grandmother?" He looked to Edward and Narcissa, who were gazing at him, sorrowful eyes full of condolence and feeling. Remus felt a lone tear trickle down his cheek at the thought of his Nana, still alive and leaving him only on this day, with so much more wisdom imparted to him. Wiping it away with his fingers, he stood awkwardly in his seat, staring deeply into the mess of pastry crumbs and gravy smears on his plate.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat brusquely then patted Remus' back reassuringly. "Your Mother has requested that you return home immediately—for the funeral." Gripping Remus' arm, she smiled weakly down at Edward and Narcissa. "He should be back at school by Saturday Night, Sunday Morning—would you please collect his class notes in the meantime?" Remus could only suppose they nodded; it seemed years before he noticed his feet moving beneath him, the cacophony of the Great Hall descending into the silence of autumnal twilight.

A soft breeze blew across his face as he exited the castle; Remus felt his blood growing warm, his skin tingle as he anticipated his transformation. This was to be his first time in the old shack that had been chosen for him—and he was sure it would be preferable to the previous two transformations, each unfolding in the damp Slytherin dungeons underneath Hogwarts. McGonagall left him near the Whomping Willow, where Groundskeeper Ogg greeted him with a warm smile. Remus felt better already just at the sight of the little, round man with the wispy grey beard and the dirty trousers. 

"Good ter see yer again, Master Lupin." Ogg pulled the boy towards him and gestured to a long, knobbly stick in his right hand. "We'll be needin' this, m'boy. Tonight I'll be showin' yer how ter get _in the Shack—the hardest part, actually. Now, stand back."_

Remus watched intently as Ogg crept along close to the ground and thrust the stick at a seemingly innocuous knot in the tree. To his surprise, the Whomping Willow stretched its gyrating branches up into the air, holding them there, stiff and unmoving, momentarily. Ogg grasped his arm firmly and pushed him through a gap between the roots, causing Remus to slide several feet into the small, dank passageway below.

Standing to brush the dirt from his robes, and hitting his head on the ceiling of the tunnel in the process, Remus saw Ogg descend after him, and rubbed his head to dull the pain. They travelled the remainder of the tunnel wordlessly; Ogg's heavy breathing filling the stale air with a buzzing noise not unlike that Remus often heard from his bedroom in the summertime—mosquitos, crickets and frogs chirping out into the humid night. Several minutes later they reached a heavy wooden door that led into the basement of the Shrieking Shack, which would inevitably become his monthly haunt for the next seven years.

Ogg grinned as he entered, and gestured to the room beyond. It was furnished sparsely, a few pieces of rough furniture cluttering the dusty floor. Remus knew that it would not be long before those chairs and table were beyond repair; the heat was growing interminably within his veins, like volcanic lava ready to spew forth at any moment. He took a deep breath and smiled back at the groundskeeper, before seating himself on the nearest wooden chair. Ogg accepted his invitation and sat himself opposite, rocking on his heels as Remus sighed and waited.

"So, Master Lupin—are yer liking 'Ogwarts so far?"

Remus stared at the floor, studying the grain of the wood intently. "Yes… it still feels like a dream to be here. I can't thank Dumbledore—and everyone else—enough for taking the time, and the risk, of allowing me to come here. I can't believe it."

Ogg beamed heartily at him, and Remus felt his ears turn red with the attention. "Albus Dumbledore's a good man, alright. He's the best thing ter happen ter 'Ogwarts; Professor Dippet was losing his grip on the place, yer know? And he was very ol' fashioned—I'll bet yer got yerself a nasty response from him, if yer mother approached him about sendin' yer here."

"Yes, she did. Grandfather was very angry—he spoke as if I were a squib, and said it was hardly worth training someone such as myself. I—" Remus trailed off into thought, and Ogg looked at him curiously. "Well, I lost hope after that. I felt as if Hogwarts would always be closed to me; that I'd be an outcast forever. Especially… well, my family…"

"Aye, I remember yer Grandfather. Good man, he always was, but set his sights a little too high fer his own good, if yer know what I mean. Couldn't really see the diff'rence twixt the ligh' and the dark—got him in a fair bit o' trouble, if I remember rightly." Ogg leaned back in his chair and stretched languidly, not appearing in the least fazed that the full moon might rise at any moment. "That was long ago, o' course—an' it's a diff'rent world, all a bit wiser, if yer ask me."

Remus nodded slowly, not really understanding the 'troubles' to which Ogg referred. "Do you remember my mother, Ogg?"

A laugh escaped the man and Remus glanced up at him in surprise. "Aye, if she weren't the prettiest thing this side o' Edinburgh! An' always bein' sweet an' kind, not like yer usual Slytherin, I might add. Her brother, yer uncle Cassius, weren't bad either. They all had some honour in 'em, knew how ter behave—not that they didn' get inter scrapes, they weren't _perfect,_ oh no… jus' diff'rent. Both real popular, too, never had a real enemy twixt 'em. Yer uncle, I reckon, he came right after the terror, himself."

"The terror?" Remus sat up, his eyes fixed on the older man, as he felt a rush of pain tingle in his fingertips. "What do you mean?"

Ogg shook his head. "Not ter speak o' it—a girl _died, yer see. That was the same year Hagrid came ter work fer me, as my apprentice. The darkest days o' 'Ogwarts, if not fer Albus Dumbledore. They almost closed the school until a Prefect, Riddle somethin'-or-other, foun' the culprit an' Professor Dippet had him expelled. Serious business, that—why I don' speak o' it, myself."_

There was a pause as Remus digested the information Ogg had just given him. Was Hogwarts really _that dangerous—that someone could die here? With a cynical, inward laugh he thought of himself, and how others might view him as being a murderer. _Was he a werewolf, or some other dark thing, unbeknownst to everyone else? How did the girl die…? Was it quick, instant death—or the type one might suffer at my own hands?_ Remus looked at the wristwatch he wore, and sighed emphatically. Ogg noticed a nervous twitch beginning to develop in his hands, and rose to leave._

"Well, Master Lupin, I'd best be gettin' back—nice ter speak ter yer, an' I'll see yer again in a day or two, alright?" He seemed to be moving towards the heavy wooden door very quickly, and Remus felt solid pain kick him in the stomach. Smiling weakly at the man, he doubled over and watched as Ogg opened the door, as a question came to mind.

"Ogg," Remus murmured, glancing up at the man who had pulled out his wand to magically lock the door. "Do you remember anyone by the name of Raoul Snape? He was… a friend of my mother's."

A flood of memories splashed through the groundskeeper's mind—and he saw Raoul's face; strong, pale, handsome, staring at him as if from the depths of hell. Ogg grinned, and nodded to Remus.

"Aye, Raoul. I remember him. Maybe, Master Lupin… that's a tale fer another time, not now." Remus sighed again, and Ogg closed the door on him, the door solidly locked, charmed and bolted behind him. _Raoul Snape… he thought, the grin still evident on his lined face, _what a question to ask!__

***

_December 25th, 1970__, _6:49am__

The wind was blowing a gale around Ravenclaw Tower when Remus awoke in his dormitory, snow piling heavily on the windowsills and the ground below. His bed felt warm from sleep, and drawing the covers closer to himself, Remus smiled happily at the thought of Christmas—Edward snoring softly in the adjacent bed, the squeals of several excited first-years downstairs almost drowned out by the whistling of the wind as it circled, leapt and jumped through the snowflakes. Remus savoured the moment gleefully, his heartbeat racing and hands shaking. _Everything is perfectly… and his thought was interrupted by pounding footsteps echoing up the dormitory stairs, ending with a bang as Narcissa flung the door open, letting a gust of icy air into the room._

"Remus, Ed—come on, wake up, you lazy gits!" 

She then proceeded to jump on top of Edward, who grunted angrily as his eyes flickered open. "What—oh, it's _you,_ Cissie." He grinned sleepily at her as she pulled Remus' bed-drapes aside. 

"I'm up, I'm up—" Remus trailed off as Narcissa began pitching Edward's presents at him and he sank back into his warm quilt, humming to himself as he ignored Edward's annoyed exclamations.

After a moment he rose and strode over to the foot of his own bed, where a small pile of presents lay in brightly-coloured wrapping. The top few were from his friends, as well as Lucius and Sarissa, the latter of whom had sent him what looked like an interesting book about advanced transfiguration. _That is, if I ever pass first year—but on Christmas Day, the last thing entering Remus' mind was the thought of school. Lucius had conspired with Evan Rosier and sent Remus an exploding package, which flew around the dormitory, bouncing off the pale-blue walls and waking all those who were seemingly immune to Narcissa and Edward's prior shrieks. When it finally landed and revealed its contents, Remus was pleased to discover a set of parchment and quills labelled as _Zonko's___ Magical Parchment: Handle with Care. His Mother had sent several packages of Cauldron Cakes, knowing that Remus despised mince pies, along with a new set of dress-robes, sparkling and shifting from dark purple to navy blue, which Remus pulled over his head immediately._

Narcissa glanced over at Remus, smiling and laughing. "Ooh, Remus! Those are gorgeous!" Moving forward, she touched the fabric and let the material run through her long, tapered fingers. "Beautiful…"

"_Beautiful…" Edward echoed, mockingly, and Narcissa glared back. "Hey, Remus—what's that?" He pointed towards a long, knobbly present carefully wrapped in silver paper. Eagerly, Remus tore the wrapping away and the three of them gaped at what lay before them on the floor._

Narcissa spoke first. "Wow."

A green, shining broomstick sat with its silver name gleaming up at them—

"A Cleansweep Seven!" Edward jumped out of his bed and landed, sprawling, on the floor. "Who sent you _that?"_

Shaking slightly with excitement, Remus pulled a small card from the torn paper, which read:

_Remus,_

_To help you practice your beating… I've noticed Lucius is not one to share. Though normally first-years aren't allowed broomsticks, Professor Dumbledore believed this might lift your spirits. Use it well._

_                                                                                                                                                                                    Uncle Cassius_

"It's from my uncle," Remus said haltingly, "he loves Quidditch too."

Narcissa furrowed her brow slightly. "I thought first-years weren't allowed—"

As she was interrupted by Edward's long-winded speech concerning the Chudley Cannons recently investing in a set of Cleansweep Seven's in the lead-up to the World Cup—to aid their already burgeoning talent, of course—Remus simply stared down at his Uncle's looped, sloping script on the card. His head seemed flushed with words to describe it, wonderful, fantastic, smashing…

"Perfect," he murmured to himself softly, as Narcissa and Edward fought over a Cauldron Cake. _Everything is perfectly perfect. _

***

_February 28th, 1971___

_Dearest Mother,_

_The Holidays were fantastic, as usual, but part of me is glad to be getting down to work once more. Thankyou very much for the dress robes—Narcissa was very envious! Her mother is always sending her pink ones, a colour she despises… something Edward teases her about endlessly, I assure you! Also, send many, many thanks to Uncle Cassius for his gift; Madam Hooch believes that, with some practice, I might be strong enough to try out for the Quidditch Team next year. _

_Professor McGonagall has begun coaching me in Transfiguration—I'll probably never understand it entirely, but I'm less of a dunce at it now than when I started! Meanwhile, my latest Potions assessment went very well, leaving me on an average of two-hundred and ninety-eight percent; Professor Cendric wants to move me up into third year Potions next year, since I'm flying through the textbook like a natural(which she believes I am). She's also asked me to coach a few Hufflepuff's in the Easter Holidays, Christian Jacobs and Raïssa Garne. So, you probably won't see me back at the Malfoy Manor until June, worst luck! _

_Edward and Narcissa have both written to their parents concerning the Summer Hols, so if July is fine for you, Uncle Cassius and Grandfather, they'll come to stay with us then. Sarissa will be pleased by the company—she's become rather withdrawn lately, despite Lucius and Evan's attempts to encourage her. Of course, this tends to include letting Dungbombs off in her dormitory, sending __Neptune__ downstairs yowling madly. I'd love for her to bring some friends home this summer as well—even Vivien Travers would be welcome, I believe, if it meant she'd have someone to talk to. She's even more bookish than me, if you can believe that Mother! Nothing like the giggly girl of two years ago, and it makes me feel strange to think of her that way. I hope something changes for her soon._

_My next transformation should be uneventful, as usual—March 12th, in case you had forgotten. I wish you wouldn't worry so much; although the Shack is looking a little worse for wear—and my illnesses/emergencies are becoming a little unbelievable—no one suspects, and no one would even think of such a thing! Dumbledore has placed threats of expulsion around the Whomping Willow(as well as a broken shoulder or two, in some cases), and few would dare to challenge his word. Smile, Mother!—even though I know right now you're probably about to scratch my eyes out because you're such a worry-wart!_

_Give my love to all—and reassure Aunt Nicolette towards Sarissa. She simply hasn't found friend's worth fighting for… yet. _

_Remus_

***

My first, innocuous year at Hogwarts was certainly the simplest I ever attended. Of the seven that would follow, our world would change in ways many had never imagined or would understand. Some would fall, some would conquer—and some would be defeated that yet triumph silently. 

Although I had lost Severus, my first friend and one who had immeasurably changed my life, Edward Moss and Narcissa Lestrange were inevitably entangled within my years at Hogwarts. Later, one would fight by my side as the other gave into submission… and left what could be construed as a simple life behind. Narcissa's fate became part of my own, and that of my family, the summer following our first year. Her parents would one day be famous for unspeakable acts, her brother mindless and alone, destroyed by his own inner hatred. 

Lucius, with his clever mind and light spirit, did study hard during his fifth year at Hogwarts. Although I received awards for the majority of my subjects—excluding Transfiguration, of course—Lucius was working for a higher power than I, hoping to please merely my mother and my Uncle. Lucius got his O.W.L.'s, all nine framed and hung happily within the trophy room in the Malfoy Manor, so that his Father—my Grandfather—might look upon him as a son, an heir, and ultimately a confidant. He had heard whispers through the Manor late at night, an unnamed fear spreading far and wide that merely excited his Father and Brother.

My first year passed, not in a flash of garish, insolent lights that are soon forgotten… but in the shape of snowflakes, fluttering on the breeze, each one so precious and individual that it remains in the mind as a jewel, sparkling no matter which way the shadows glance off it.

And, to show his appreciation for his son's achievement, my Grandfather hosted a ball for Lucius' sixteenth birthday—the day which would change the course of his life, of mine, of all who attended… forever.

***

_July 2nd, 1971__, _7:56pm__

"Hey, Loony Lupin!"

Evan Rosier grinned as the younger boy sidled past him, his two friends whispering between themselves and giggling conspiratorially. Turning to Lucius, whose face seemed bright and shining in the hall-light, he pursed his lips and nudged his best friend hard in the ribs. "What?"

"Where's your other cousin, then?" He attempted to speak in his usual off-hand, joking manner, but inside his stomach was turning with the thought of seeing his face reflected in those defensive, violet eyes. "Y'know… Larissa, I thought her name was."

"_Sarissa," Lucius corrected, rolling his eyes. "And she's my __niece, not my cousin. I don't know where she is…" as he trailed off, Lucius looked at Evan suspiciously. "Why do you care, anyway? You've never taken any notice of her before."_

Feeling hot all over his face, like little needles prickling his skin from the inside, Evan shook his head deferentially. "Well… I was just asking, since I always remember Remus, and I just thought that maybe she was ill, or away, or something since I hadn't seen her today and that it was a bit odd, seeing as you're her uncle and all, being away on your birthday." As he finished speaking, Evan laughed nervously, causing Lucius to smirk at his sudden realisation. He grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him into the ballroom.

"Come on, you great git… the guests'll arrive soon, and I've got to be there to greet them. Plus, if you're lucky—maybe Sarissa'll be inside too!" Evan relaxed and laughed again, more naturally this time, allowing himself to be dragged over to where Alexander and Cassius Malfoy stood, discussing something which seemed to be of great importance.

"Father, Cassius—is it almost time?" Lucius interrupted their conversation, but instead of what Evan had expected, annoyed and indulgent smiles from both parties, the two men looked down at Lucius with pleasure, and with pride. _Certainly different from my family, Evan thought dismally, hoping against hope that this summer would once more be spent in Malfoy Manor, and away from the small house in Sussex where his infinitely respectable, but terribly poor Wizard parents lived. _If Lucius ever met them—well, I don't know what I'd say. 'Here, friend, is where your rich, important, powerful Evan Rosier resides—a small, two-bedroom duplex with an outside toilet—except, of course, when he's holidaying in France, Malta, or even Japan!_ Unfortunately for Evan, his branch of the Rosier family had fallen into poverty in the past century, due mainly to the fall of Grindelwald in 1945, a Dark Wizard who had promised health, wealth and wisdom to all who followed him. And even now, new fears were escalating as seers prophesised all over the Wizarding World the 'Second Coming', as they called it, of a great Dark Wizard who would destroy all who challenged him. Evan, in his mind, swore to himself that he would never be swayed by the powers of a Dark Lord._

"So, Evan," Cassius spoke, bringing the boy from his reverie, "were you quite as fortunate as our Lucius in your O.W.L. results?"

Forcing a smile, Evan nodded to the man who captured his attention every time he spoke to him. "Yes, sir—only seven, I'm afraid, but my parents were quite pleased."

Cassius nodded, and a trumpet sounded from the orchestral pit, startling Evan considerably. "Very fine work, Mr. Rosier—and I am sure we will see much more of it from you in the future." He patted Evan on the shoulder and wandered off with Lucius to greet the guests the trumpet had announced. Evan wandered off to a round table where Remus, Narcissa Lestrange and Edward Moss were laughing and joking, greeting them with a wave. Remus gestured for him to sit down next to him.

"Thanks," Evan said gratefully, and noticed that a plate appeared in front of him, along with one on his left, the chair of which was not occupied. As he glanced around the table Evan saw small placards, named for the guests that would be sitting at the table. The one next to him read _Rosaline de Pélagrie. _The name sounded slightly familiar, and it rang in his head as the announcer began to introduce the arriving guests.

"Professor David Mulciber, of Surrey, along with his wife Geraldine and two sons, Roland and Benjamin." Evan recognised his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher immediately, and shuddered at the thought of being placed at a table with him, the one teacher in the faculty who adored Lucius but, for some reason, despised Evan. To his relief, Professor Mulciber was seated at a table across the room after being welcomed by Lucius and his relatives.

"Mr. Norman Jacobs, Minister of Internal Affairs, from Kent, with his daughter Clarice and…" The voice faded out of Evan's mind as he noticed a head of chestnut-brown hair appear in the corner of his eye and he frantically searched the crowd for it once more. As he scrambled about in his seat, Evan saw that the placard next to Ms. Pélagrie was that of Sarissa Malfoy, and he hurriedly changed seats with Rosaline, swapping placards and placing her next to Remus instead. He watched as Sarissa crossed the dance floor tentatively, her mauve dress robes shimmering under the heavy lights. Breathing deeply, he stood and pulled out the chair next to him in a gentlemanly gesture, ignoring the giggling from behind him, undoubtedly Remus' friends making fun of him.

Sarissa looked surprised when she saw Evan standing next to her chair, holding it out for her to sit down next to him. Checking the placard quickly—she was going to kill her mother for seating her there!—she watched Evan resume his seat and turn to look at her. "Hello."

"Hi," Evan felt like an idiot as he sat there, behind him Narcissa and Edward mimicking the interchange with their own additions. "You look beautiful," he breathed softly, so the others wouldn't hear him properly. Sarissa looked away and stared instead at the next group of guests that were being introduced.

"And, our very distinguished guests, the French Minister for Magic Bernard de Pélagrie, from Paris, with his wife Emilie, and daughters Heléne and Rosaline." Sarissa smiled in recognition at Rosaline; she had attended her Preparatory School in Switzerland before leaving for Beauxbatons, Sarissa for Hogwarts. Evan noted the smile and tapped Sarissa on the shoulder.

"She's sitting here, right between Remus and I—she can swap seats with me, if you'd like." Sarissa knew that she would certainly prefer sitting next to Rosaline, a girl she had merely met in the halls of school rather than Evan Rosier, the boy she had adored before she could spell properly. Instead of nodding, however, she shook her head and Evan beamed at her happily.

Dinner proceeded without much excitement, Sarissa ever conscious of Evan's eyes upon her, and Evan drinking in her every movement as languidly as he sipped at the glass of champagne Lucius had set in front of him with a slight smirk. Remus noticed the tension between the two, and murmured to Rosaline, the girl seated on his left, that Sarissa had been besotted with Evan ever since he could remember. All the male eyes in the hall were fixed on Rosaline and her sister, save Evan's, and Remus noted, with a glance to her pale-blonde hair and brown eyes, that she was quite possibly of Veela heritage. 

The orchestra, which had played softly during the meal, began to increase their volume as the announcer declared the dance floor open. Lights dimmed and millions of tiny candles were magically lit, creating a romantic atmosphere. A queue of admirers instantly appeared behind Rosaline, and Remus threw away any hope of dancing with the beautiful girl at that moment. Evan immediately grasped Sarissa's hand when she consented to dance with him, and, to Remus' surprise, he saw Narcissa stand with Lucius and follow him to the centre of the floor.

Evan held Sarissa tightly as they danced a slow waltz, his heart beating faster than the tempo the music, causing him to stumble occasionally and he cursed himself for refusing the dancing lessons his mother had offered as a luxury when he was younger. Sarissa merely smiled and hoped that he wouldn't spoil the moment by stepping on one of her feet. As they twirled past Lucius and Narcissa, Sarissa noticed that Lucius was quite enraptured by the young girl, despite the presence of Rosaline and Heléne de Pélagrie, who seemed to have captured the hearts of the entire male attendance. _Strange that he should choose to dance his first dance with her, rather than one of the more beautiful girls, she thought, and unthinkingly grinned at Evan who nearly fell over her in his excitement._

"Sarissa," he whispered, and her breath caught in her throat, "why have you been avoiding me?"

"What do you mean?" she asked as she quickly side-stepped his left foot.

He pursed his lips and looked away at Remus, who was now dancing with Clarice Jacobs, another Hogwarts first-year. "For the past year—longer, actually, since the Christmas before—you've been avoiding me. If I say anything to you in the halls, you just stare at the ground and walk away. Why?"

Sarissa's skin prickled at the memory. "Well, you've never taken any interest in me before, so I didn't think it mattered—"

"Is this to do with that Travers ninny? Telling you that I thought you were immature? I mean… back then—" Suddenly, Sarissa wrenched free of his grasp and ran across the ballroom and back into the main house, Evan following her closely. "Sarissa!" he yelled once he was back in the hall, and heard heavy footsteps upstairs, and the slam of a door. When he reached her bedroom on the second floor, the bolt was drawn across and he banged on the door mercilessly. "Sarissa, please—it was years ago! You used to follow us around all the time, of course Lucius and I thought you were annoying!"

A sob reverberated inside the room, and Evan felt like kicking himself. "Just go away!" Sarissa yelled through the closed door, and buried her face in her pillow, muffling her tears. Outside, Evan pulled out his wand and pointed it to where he supposed the bolt was—_I can't wait for the Ministry to get a hold of this, underage usage of Magic for totally selfish reasons_—and whispered, "_Alohomora_,_" causing the door to fly open. Sarissa looked up, her face red and blotchy from weeping, then covered her face. "Get out! I told you to go away!"_

Closing the door behind him, Evan laughed bitterly. "People don't always do what you tell them to, I'm afraid." He sat himself down on the end of her bed and looked at Sarissa, her hands still covering her face and her eyes peering out between the gaps in her fingers. "What's wrong?"

Shaking her head stubbornly, Sarissa removed her hands and Evan thought she looked even more attractive than before, her face full of passion and emotion. "As if you didn't know. Of all people, you had to bring up _her—Vivien. But then, I suppose you can't keep her out of your thoughts, since you're in love with her and all."_

Evan nearly choked at this remark, and stared at Sarissa, his eyes wide and incredulous. "Let me guess, she told you that… the little idiot." He took a deep breath and examined his fingers rather than looking into that accusing, defiant face that made his blood run red hot. "Look, Sarissa—whatever she's said to you, it isn't true. In fact…" Evan looked up at her again, and saw that she was weakening, paling and calming herself down. "The only girl I've never been able to keep out of my thoughts is you."

Everything blurred as Sarissa leant towards him Evan kissed her softly, then a little more brutally, unable to keep himself from running his fingers through her soft hair roughly, trying to separate the perfect strands so that they were more like his own, coarse and dry. When they pulled apart she looked away at the quilt-cover, and as the traced the checked pattern murmured, "you'd better go now."

"Yeah," he drawled as he rose and walked to the door, closing it behind him, knees shaking as if he was still writhing in the power of her dreamlike gaze. Evan leant up against the wall as he struggled to remember every moment of their hasty embrace, and heard the guests counting down to midnight loudly in the ballroom below. A loud cheer reverberated through the house as Lucius' birthday arrived, and Evan grinned at the thought of his best friend. _If he finds out about this… he's gonna kill me._ His thoughts were interrupted as he heard voices at the bottom of the stairs, and he hid quickly behind a large suit of armour, frightened by the thought of Lucius'—or rather, Cassius'—wrath.

Alexander, Cassius and Lucius emerged at the top of the staircase, and Evan watched as Lucius was led into the closest room—Alexander Malfoy's study. Interest piqued, Evan crept over once the door closed behind them, leaving a small gap that let a trickle of light into the dark hall and allowed Evan to hear snippets of the conversation inside.

"Lucius… you must be prepared—" Alexander was speaking, and Evan wished that the guests downstairs might quiet themselves so that he could hear exactly what was being said to Lucius. Raucous screams travelled up as the orchestra began playing a vicious Charleston. "The young… needed for our task."

"Yes, Father." Lucius seemed to have agreed to whatever proposal Alexander had made, although Evan's creeping curiousity was not yet satisfied.

Cassius cleared his throat. "So, you will join us… him… a good man, very good… believes in the old ways, importance of magical… exclusively. Very good man."

Evan heard more voices downstairs, and decided to depart before he was discovered, eavesdropping on a private, and what appeared to be a very serious, conversation. _I'll find out anyway, he thought reassuringly, his mind still full to the brim with Sarissa, __Lucius tells me everything._

And the last thing he heard, as he silently skulked down the stairs, was Lucius' assurances to his Father, Brother… and possibly even someone else. "Yes, Father. I promise you that much."

***

Now, review and tell me what you thought! That's the best part! : )


	12. Hogwarts: Of Quidditch

Yes, I'm on a roll. This happens often—I might pump out four chapters in a week then not write any for a month or two. Pfft… it's annoying, but I have to live with it and, unfortunately for you as my readers, so do you. : )

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, EXCLUDING: Alexander, Cassius, Roxane and Sarissa Malfoy, Yanni Poulos, Edward Moss, Quentin Cohen, Fiona Benedict, Joseph and Renee Bones (except for their last name), Harriet Rosier (ditto) Professor Mulciber, Adonis Lestrange, William Ledoyen, Thomas Yang, Sarah Winton, Lachlan Herzog, Carlina Petrovic, Frederick Avery (last name excluded), Mary Caldwell, Alyssa Murdoch, Jacob Flint (except last name), Emily Pinkerton, Alex Barraclough, Christina Eccles, Ben Mason and Pete Jordan (quadruple ditto).

The book "The Beast Within" doesn't exist, but the title isn't mine—it's from the GABRIEL KNIGHT computer game series, because the second game concerns Werewolves and is called, accordingly "The Beast Within". It's one of my favourite games, as well as the best way, in my opinion, to allude to lycanthropy. Hee.

Have fun! There's much to be had in this next chapter of "BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON!"

***

**Of Quidditch**

After Lucius' ball, the summer became harder to bear. I was confined to the cellar over my birthday, Edward and Narcissa given the excuse that I had fallen ill with a sudden cold and had been sent to stay at St. Mungos overnight for observation. Part of me felt scared that it would not be long before they would realise the coincidences—each of my absences fell exactly on the three days of the full moon; my pubescent body was beginning to react to the transformations in unusual ways, such as my growing strength that was rather uncommon in a twelve-year old boy—I could have beaten Lucius, Evan or possibly even my Uncle Cassius in a fist-fight; as well as the fact that in our next year of Defence Against the Dark Arts, one of our prescribed texts included Yanni Poulos' famous novella, "The Beast Within". Fear of discovery began to envelop me, and possibly it was this fear that clouded my perceptions over the next few months.

Lucius was much changed following his sixteenth birthday. Gone forever was the competitive yet kind, ambitious yet sensitive boy of my childhood—his innocence had been ripped from his grasp viciously, the cruel reality of our world now a burden on his still young shoulders. Evan Rosier, who now ironically had taken to following my cousin Sarissa around unwanted, was preoccupied and barely noticed his best friend during the summer holidays. Uncle Cassius would keep Lucius inside studying for hours every day needlessly while Edward, Narcissa and I practiced Quidditch on the expansive lawn behind the Manor… some part of me could sense him, sitting inside with the drapes drawn closed, his head bent over an old, decaying book that had been secreted in the depths of my Grandfather's reasonably respectable library, longing to be outside in the warm sun but knowing that it was impossible. That summer, while pitying him, my mind was too full of its own troubles to truly sympathise.

The unusual friendship that had formed between Sarissa and Evan continued to fascinate my Mother daily. Often, when I would force her to watch me beating a bludger towards Edward or Narcissa's head, her gaze would trail off into the trees beyond the pitch, where Sarissa plaited together daisies into necklaces and hung them, a secretive smile on her face, around her paramour's neck. At these moments, something in my Mother's eyes would flash with recognition, occasionally I would note what appeared to be tears forming there, but before I could be certain she glanced back up at me, a grin replacing it and ready for my next attempt to win her favour. Without delay I would slam another bludger into Grandfather's favourite rosebush. Aunt Nicolette was nowhere to be seen during these interludes.

One of my most vivid memories from the summer occurred in Diagon Alley, when Sarissa, Lucius and I went with Uncle Cassius to buy our school supplies. My Uncle took us down a narrow, disreputable lane in search of a book he had ordered several months previously, and we entered a small, dimly-lit shop cluttered with strange, mind-boggling objects. I remember stroking the silver werewolf charms on display mischievously, but Cassius and Lucius' conversation with proprietor remains a mystery of jumbled words and half-meanings. When we left, Sarissa asked her father if his book had been worth waiting for, Cassius ignoring the question and striding forth ahead with Lucius, his silver-topped walking cane tapping on the cobblestones as we watched, his hands empty and his shoulders heavy.

My return to Hogwarts was tearless this time around; my Mother had become used to my absence and I wondered if returning at Christmastime would have any effect on our relationship whatsoever. She was a different woman now that I had left her—our conversations were always brief, and I believe she resented my schooling for the fact that it had given me an independence that she craved in her own, caged life. I never held her hand anymore.

And so, as I sat in the last compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Sarissa reading her Herbology textbook with one hand while the other lay hidden, encased in Evan Rosier's underneath their black robes, I smiled at the friends that surrounded me. The horrible pangs that friendship can bring—the ones that threaten the love, understanding, confidence—sliced through my soul like a machete, along with the feeling that my secret would hurt them, or someone else who dared complete me, forever.

***

_September 1st, 1971__, _6:57pm____

Narcissa's laugh echoed along the dark hallways leading downstairs from Ravenclaw Tower to the Great Hall, Remus and Edward struggling to keep up with her as the staircases changed position all around them. 

"Cissie… slow… down…" Edward gasped, feeling a stitch develop in his side from the exertion.

She shook her head quickly as she glanced back at the floundering boys. "We're late, and if you're not careful we'll get caught by Professor Mulciber or someone equally bad!" Narcissa laughed again and Remus felt like strangling her mercilessly. _I suppose my strength is better used flying on a broomstick than racing around the castle, pursuing pranks—"Besides," she called out again, Remus grasping Edward's arm to pull him along faster, "without my great planning, _dahling Quentin_ wouldn't have stink pellets waiting for him in his bed!"_

Edward snorted loudly, thinking of the squeals Quentin Cohen—a rather irritating, stocky boy who slept in their dormitory and enjoyed reading _Sherlock Holmes_ novels—would undoubtedly emit when he parted the curtains surrounding his bed later that evening. Remus allowed himself to grin widely as they slowed their pace, entering the Great Hall silently and resuming their places at the Ravenclaw table. The sorting had already begun, but they were not too late to see where Narcissa's brother would be placed. The first new student had seated herself at the Ravenclaw table, and the cheers resounding from it allowed them to slip in unnoticed.

"Benedict, Fiona!"

She was sorted quickly into Hufflepuff, and Remus poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice as he stared at the long line of first-years waiting nervously near the hat. Several more were sorted quickly, including twins—"Bones, Joseph" and "Bones, Renee"—before he looked up again.

"Black, Sirius!"

A tall, dark-haired boy approached the hat quickly, his stride confident and self-assured. Giving the Hall a huge grin, he pulled the Sorting Hat down onto his head. This boy took a little longer than the others, as if the hat were deliberating over which house would best suit his obviously unique attributes. After another moment, it screeched: "SLYTHERIN!"—resulting in massive cheers from the farthest table; he was their first new student for the year.

Narcissa leaned forward conspiratorially. "Too bad, eh, Remus? That one didn't look half bad—a bit of a schemer too, I'd imagine!" 

Nodding, Remus drained his glass and saw that a short, red-haired girl was now seating herself on the stool, her hands shaking nervously. "Probably a Muggle, that one," Edward murmured, and they all watched as she was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Too many for their own good, I reckon—we'll have so many silly 'Puffs running around this year we won't know what to do with them!" 

Narcissa rolled her eyes at Felicity Winter, another Ravenclaw, before saying with a laugh: "They're easy to manage—just drop a few Dungbombs in their school bag and they'll be so scared they'll run home crying for Mummy!" This resulted in an uproarious laugh from everyone who heard, causing Professor Fletcher, their House Patron, to shush them all angrily. Finally, "Ledoyen, William", was placed in Slytherin and the moment Narcissa had been waiting for arrived.

"Lestrange, Adonis!"

The three friends sat silently as they watched Narcissa's brother, the tension of the moment building in their stomachs until—"RAVENCLAW!"—was announced and Adonis bounced off happily to his sister, who hugged and kissed him lavishly.

"I knew you'd be here, I just knew it!" she said ecstatically. "Mother and Dad will be so pleased, they won't know what to do with themselves!"

"Pettigrew, Peter!" slowly became a Gryffindor, followed by "Pippin, Estella!" who also took her time before heading towards the Hufflepuff table. After "Potter, James!" joined the Gryffindors as well, Remus' stomach was beginning to growl and Edward laughed loudly, only to be threatened once more—this time with a detention—by Professor Fletcher.

"Rosier, Harriet!"

Remus stared at the overly-tall, awkward girl who tripped over herself before reaching the stool and the hat which held her fate. Nobody laughed at her, however—they knew better than to laugh at a Rosier, and even the first-year Muggles hushed themselves quickly when they realised no one else was sharing their mirth. She was sent to the Slytherin table, where Evan, her cousin, slapped her on the back excitedly. Remus noticed that Sarissa sat beside him instead of Lucius, who had joined the sixth-year Prefects further up the Slytherin table.

Finally, "Yang, Thomas" became the last Ravenclaw—and first-year—sorted, and Professor Dumbledore stood to deliver his speech.

"It is wonderful to see so many new faces here—ones whose name we know so well—" Harriet Rosier blushed at this "—and others whose name is totally unfamiliar. I hope that all of you will take this opportunity not only to learn about the magical arts, but also about the diversity of the people in our magical world.

"As always, the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds, as I'm sure our new Groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid will inform you should you forget and wander too near it. Professor Sprout has also asked me to warn new students—and old ones—of the Whomping Willow tree, which has only just recovered from its last encounter with a student… Unless you wish to make Madam Pomfrey's job all the more difficult, please steer clear of both the Forest and the Tree." Dumbledore gave the entire Hall a stern look but Remus saw the twinkle in his eye and almost giggled. "Now, let the Feast begin!"

Remus, Narcissa and Edward all tucked in to a large, meaty pie that appeared before them and spoke sporadically for the rest of the night, their hunger more important than the conversation. About an hour later they climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, gasping and heaving themselves forward, all blaming the house elves for preparing too much food—"It's a bloody menace, that's what—trying to gorge us, are they? Want us to suffocate in our own vomit, I suppose," Edward exclaimed rather too loudly as they passed the kitchens—and collapsed in their beds, too tired to move, and even too tired to laugh when Quentin Cohen almost choked on the stench emanating from his bedsheets. A few minutes after their heads touched the pillow, Edward and Remus were both fast asleep.

***

_October 12th, 1971___

_Dearest Mother,_

_Thankyou for your letter regarding my schoolwork—I'm surprised that Professor Dumbledore actually took the time to write to you concerning my new placement in third-year Potions, but I suppose he knew you would be both interested and excited by the prospect. I have had no problems in the class thus far; we are scheduled with the Gryffindors, who are rather an unruly lot, but much nicer now that I know them a little better. I tend to sit with Frederick Avery, an older Ravenclaw whose father is apparently quite good friends with Grandfather and Uncle Cassius._

_My last transformation was more painful than usual, but I wouldn't worry yourself, Mother. Madam Pomfrey has spoken to me about the effects that ones bitten so young can experience—apparently its something to do with hormones interacting with the blood, causing headaches, nausea and a much more vicious transformation than an older or a younger werewolf._

_Unfortunately, Groundskeeper Ogg departed Hogwarts several days ago, following my stint underneath the Whomping Willow, and has now passed the duty onto Rubeus Hagrid (the new Groundskeeper), and Madam Pomfrey. I've already spoken to them regarding November, and both assure me that they are versed in the precautions to be taken, etc… Neither Narcissa nor Edward are suspicious yet, they merely think that I'm prone to sickness, even in the summer months! _

_Yesterday I had my Quidditch trial, with Madam Hooch and Sarah Winton, one of our best chasers as well as team captain. There were about ten others trying for the new Beater positions—both were seventh-years, and left Hogwarts in June—but I believe that I played well for my age, regarding the fact that most of the other applicants were in their third or fourth year. Madam Hooch was very complimentary, however, so I still think I'm in with a chance! I guess all those outside practices with Narcissa and Edward during the summer paid off, don't you think?_

_I still see Severus Snape in the hallway occasionally; he tends to avoid me as much as I do him. Luckily my Potions class isn't held with the Slytherins; otherwise we'd probably be forced to speak to each other! Professor McGonagall believes that my Transfiguration has improved from my first-year—within time, she says, I'll finally grasp it all. I think I'm beginning to understand why I despise it so much: probably due to the fact that if a transformation in my body is painful, then how could that not be the same for a rabbit, turtle or little mouse? As long as I pass, and pass well, I know you and me— and everyone at home—will be pleased. That's all that matters to me._

_Give my love to everyone—especially to Uncle Cassius and Aunt Nicolette when they return from __Paris__!_

_Remus.___

***

_December 30th, 1971__, _2:34pm____

Evan Rosier gripped Sarissa's arm as she walked beside him, down the main stairs and out into the light snow that was falling in drifts around Hogwarts Castle. She smiled up at him as he held her, and Evan felt like bursting inside with the feeling of being with her once more. All through December they had taken to wandering past the frozen lake, through the snow and sitting in the Quidditch stands with their robes drawn tightly around them, hands linked and mouths speaking of everything and nothing all at once. Today, Evan supposed, was to be no different than all the others, until he saw a dark, heavily-clad figure standing near the lake, staring at them as they approached. Sarissa stopped when she recognised the hooded figure.

"Let's go," she whispered anxiously and began to pull Evan back towards the castle, but the figure was walking towards them quickly, removing his hood as he did so. It was Lucius. Evan's blood turned to ice as he saw him.

"Evan," Lucius said, nodding to his best friend, then looked at Sarissa with a stern, commanding gaze. "Sarissa, go inside. I need to speak with Evan… alone."

Sarissa didn't move, so Evan nudged her softly and motioned towards the castle. "Go on, go back to the common room. We'll be up in a minute or two." She left them, her eyes still fixed on Lucius as she passed through the heavy wooden doors and climbed the stairs. As soon as she was out of sight, Evan began to speak again. "So, Luce, what do you—"

Suddenly Evan found himself up against the freezing stone wall of the castle, Lucius' hands around his neck, slowly choking him with an iron grip. "What are you doing, eh?" His voice sounded different, darker, as if from the depths of some part of his soul Evan had never seen before. "What are you doing with Sarissa?"

Evan gasped as he tried to breath, although his neck was slowly being crushed by Lucius' hold. "Nothing, Lucius, I swear it!" He felt himself being released and slumped against the wall, breathing deeply, his face red both from the wind and the lack of oxygen.

"Nothing," Lucius muttered to himself, glaring at the boy who had been his best friend for six years. "Nothing, nothing, nothing…" Evan caught the glare before Lucius' eyes flashed away to the window above, one that let light into a small stairwell, where Sarissa was standing with her hands covering her mouth in surprise. "Would you like to tell _her_ that?" he asked, pointing up at the window. "Tell her that this is just _nothing?"_

"No… you don't understand, I didn't mean…" 

"Cassius knows." Here Lucius paused before smirking at Evan hostilely. "Her _father knows. And now he wants to know __exactly what your intentions are. Towards __his daughter, his heir." He clapped loudly and rubbed his hands together to warm them. "So tell __me, Evan—what __exactly are you doing?"_

Evan felt cornered, alone, even with Sarissa's calming face gazing down at him from above. His mouth didn't seem to work properly, it opened and closed like a dying fish but no words escaped. Lucius came closer, closer—then kicked him in the ribs as if he were a useless dog.

Sarissa screamed, and Lucius heard her loud footsteps on the stairs before a loud crash resonated through the castle doors. Evan was immediately on his feet, frightened for her safety and his own in the hands of this new Lucius Malfoy. He raced inside the castle, Lucius closely following, and saw Sarissa lying in a heap at the bottom of the main stairs. Her lower lip was trembling as he reached her, right leg in an ominous position. "I fell. I think it's broken," she mumbled as Evan touched it gingerly and Sarissa winced noticeably. Lucius stopped behind Evan and saw that his niece was looking up at him with disbelief on her face. "What were you doing, Lucius?" she asked breathlessly.

He ignored the question. "We've got to get you to Madam Pomfrey," he said, picking her up deftly in his arms. Then, to Evan: "You've got blood on your collar. Clean yourself up, and we'll talk about this later. My brother has a proposition for you." With that, Lucius headed off in the direction of the hospital wing, Sarissa looking back over his shoulder into the eyes of Evan Rosier, whose mind was whirring with the possibilities. _What in Merlin's name is Lucius talking about?_ he wondered, before departing the stairs for the nearest bathroom, the blood still warm and viscous near his throat.

***

_January 23rd, 1972__, _10:13am____

"And its Lachlan Herzog taking the field, Quaffle in hand, passes to Carlina Petrovic, who—no, she's dropped it, Ben Mason's carefully aimed Bludger nearly taking her off the broom!" The crowd booed viciously at the Slytherin team, the Beaters of which stuck their noses high in the air and dodged the Bludger sent back at them from Remus, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and making his blood rush like never before. _This is worse than my transformations, _he thought wildly, _everything happens so quickly, you can't be sure of yourself—ever._

He saw Evan Rosier block the Quaffle at the goalposts, throwing it back to Jacob Flint, a Slytherin Chaser. Getting his bat ready, Remus swooped lower and swung, hitting the Bludger with a loud crack and defending Sarah Winton, his captain and the Chaser who was marking Flint. "Nice job there by Remus Lupin, allowing Sarah Winton to take the Quaffle… she's powering up the field, Herzog and Petrovic shielding her, she's almost there, yes, yes—YES! Rosier misses, Forty-nil to Ravenclaw!"

The crowd went wild for the Ravenclaw Team, screaming and shouting their praises as Lucius Malfoy scowled high above them, searching for the Golden Snitch with his earnest eyes. Alyssa Murdoch, the Ravenclaw Seeker, hung in the air behind him, knowing that her Shooting Star was no match for his Cleansweep should there be a race to snatch the Snitch. Remus saw her and smiled upwards, receiving a grin in return from the older girl.

"Barraclough has the Quaffle, oh and Winton's facing him off—careful, careful—and he's dodged her, nice Bludger from Caldwell, just missed! Passes to Pinkerton, no, no—and he's scored! Forty-ten to Ravenclaw! Avery doesn't look too happy about it either!"

Remus saw Frederick Avery, the Ravenclaw Keeper, zooming back and forth in front of the goal-posts, a fuming look on his usually calm face. _I guess I'm not the only one who feels so nervous…_ This match would put Ravenclaw in the semi-final against Hufflepuff, and with a chance of winning the Quidditch Cup. Slytherin had won it the last twelve years, and the entire school was banking on the Ravenclaw Team, thought to be the best in a century, to beat them today. _If we win, Slytherin hasn't got a chance in hell of winning the Cup._ Remus felt a little bad for Lucius, who was the Captain of Slytherin this year, and for Evan who had only recently joined the team as Keeper, but a twelve-year winning streak wasn't bad for a team that regularly prepared players for teams on the International Quidditch circuit. _Someone else deserves it, once in a while. _

Daydreaming, Remus nearly had his head knocked off by a Bludger, and received a withering look from Lachlan Herzog, who didn't believe second-years should be given places on the school Quidditch teams. Smiling weakly, Remus flew after the Bludger and knocked it back at Emily Pinkerton, a Slytherin Chaser who was marking Carlina. Ravenclaw scored again, and Remus followed the Bludgers with his eyes as well as his broom, nearly knocking several Slytherins off their brooms much to the delight of Pete Jordan, a fourth-year Gryffindor and the Quidditch commentator.

"Winton's in possession, flying up the field—oh, what's Eccles doing? Penalty! Penalty!" Remus watched as Christina Eccles, a Slytherin Beater, fiercely hit at Sarah Winton's hand, the one holding the Quaffle, with her bat. Madam Hooch blew her whistle loudly and awarded a penalty to Ravenclaw. "Yes! Eighty-twenty, to Ravenclaw!"

Suddenly, everything slowed as Remus saw Lucius dive towards the ground, his hand outstretched and ready to grasp for the Golden Snitch, which he had just spotted hovering near Alex Barraclough's broom handle, a Slytherin Chaser. Alyssa Murdoch immediately shot after him, but Remus knew that Lucius would reach the Snitch before she did, unless someone prevented him… Quickly, Remus readied his bat and swung a nearby Bludger as hard as he could towards his Uncle. It hit him, causing Lucius to sway precariously on his broom while Alyssa flew past, and moments rose even faster, her left hand grasping a small, fluttering golden ball.

The entire Ravenclaw Team began to scream ecstatically, and Remus saw his friends Edward and Narcissa hugging each other happily in the crowd. Pete Jordan seemed lost for words as he stuttered and stammered his congratulations, the satisfaction of Slytherin's defeat evident in his voice. Lucius looked shocked, his right arm hanging limply at his side, obviously broken. Evan Rosier's gaze flickered quickly to Remus, gave him a small, sad grin before they all lowered to the ground, alighted from their broomsticks, and waited for the onslaught, Ravenclaw overwhelmed by a crowd of hundreds of well-wishers, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff among them. Slytherin slunk away into the change rooms, their supporters vanished from the stands, save for one or two.

As Remus looked around himself, struggling to find his way out of the crowd around him, he spotted Severus Snape looking down at him from the bleachers, his face paler than before and his black hair hanging limply around his face. His white lips were contorted in disbelief, and as his eyes concentrated themselves on Remus he felt their fire burning inside of him, his skin prickling underneath his royal-blue robes. He was distracted as a girl came up beside him, and Remus recognised her as one of the Hufflepuff first-years, her green eyes bright with the victory.

"I'd just like to say that, well, I saw what you did up there, and it was great." She grinned and Remus felt as if her smile could make him happy forever. "I want to be a Beater as well, next year or so when I'm strong enough. Quidditch is just smashing, isn't it?" He nodded and the girl was pulled away from him into the crowd. "Bye!" she called, and Remus remembered Severus' look from the stands. When he looked once more, Remus was grateful that Severus had disappeared once more.

"Come on, Lupin!" he heard Frederick calling out to him, and felt Alyssa's arm on his shoulder. "If you don't hurry, you'll miss the victory feast!"

All other thoughts were pushed from his mind as he heard his stomach grumbling loudly. "Coming!" Remus yelled, and went off to gorge himself, as was expected, with Edward and Narcissa by his side, both Severus and the red-haired girl distant memories.

***

_March 15th, 1972___

_Dearest Father and Cassius,_

_Thankyou for your concern regarding my arm—it still feels a little strange, despite Madam Pomfrey's prostrations that all my bones have healed. I have a niggling pain just above my elbow, and it feels a little strange to touch it—as if the cartilage had hardened there. Other than that, I am well, as are Sarissa, Remus and, more importantly, Evan Rosier. _

_I have had lengthy discussions with Evan regarding your decision—he seems quite besotted by Sarissa, and willing to do anything to win your favour, Brother. Evan Rosier is not a dupe, however, and will only be led so far by his emotions. Perhaps we must attempt the impossible: bring him over to our side of the argument permanently. I am sure that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be pleased with my friend; he is intelligent, passionate and strong-willed. He would truly be an asset to our cause._

_Every day brings me closer, but I am restless here at Hogwarts. I long to be with you, in the truest sense of the words, back at the Manor—and, most of all, initiated formally as I am secretly. I know that my N.E.W.T. examinations are what I should be striving towards, but this summer is my true goal—lifelong commitment to the Order. _

_Evan will return with me from Hogwarts on June 28th. Perhaps it would be wiser for you to speak with him about the seriousness of the decision he has made; more than likely he does not realise the effect the Order will have on him. It transforms you into something better than you were before, something greater than this world—and he, I'm afraid, views it merely as a secret society, one he hopes to join so that he may ask for Sarissa's hand. How imbecilic. _

_Of course, he is only sixteen, as am I, and it is possible that his views toward Sarissa will change over time. We must persuade him, Father! Cassius, it is most important that you bind him to Sarissa as quickly as is possible, through a betrothal or some equally innocuous ceremony. She is quite protective of him, I assure you—without her own consent I daresay he would never attempt to ask it of you. He must be turned, that is certain. He must be one of us!_

_It is possible also that I am over-exaggerating her hold over him, but Sarissa has always been a rather manipulative, clever girl. Brother, you noted this when she was much younger, and have always thwarted her attempts to become close to you due to this fact. Now, I beg you—embrace her. For the only thing more conniving than the man is the woman who supports him… I am glad to hear of Nicolette's initiation. As a woman, she will never be as valuable as you are to You-Know-Who, but without her aid you would, as all men would, be nothing at all. As they say, education begins in the home—and women are at the heart of that._

_My love to you both, Nicolette, Roxane and, most of all—to our Lord and Master.___

_Your comrade-in-arms,_

_Lucius.___

***

_June 13th, 1972__, _11:43am____

"Hey!" Remus' Transfiguration notes fell to the ground as several rambunctious Hufflepuff first-years ran past, and he sighed heavily. Edward and Narcissa immediately dropped to the ground to help him pick them up, but Remus waved them away. "No, you two go on to class. I'll catch up, okay?" They nodded and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Remus alone in the hallway, grabbing at his dishevelled notes. As he reached for one that had fallen a little further away than the others, another hand picked it up and handed it to him. Remus' eyes followed the arm to the neck and then saw the face of his helper. It was Severus Snape.

"Thanks," Remus said, taking the paper from Severus. He was much taller than Remus remembered, but then the last time they had seen each other closely was four years ago. _Can it really be that long? Remus thought with shock, _I haven't really been friends with him for that long either. How strange. _He smiled at Severus weakly, who returned it uncomfortably. Remus noticed that his face looked colder and much less child-like now, as if he had aged ten years instead of just four. He had a deep cleft in the middle of his forehead, as if something was worrying him, and it seemed that the smile Remus had received hadn't been used recently._

"You're welcome." Severus' voice had changed also, deepening into what sounded like a low growl. It startled Remus for a moment, but a loud yell from the adjacent hallway distracted him momentarily.

"Peeevvveeees!" A boy came running down their hall, his blue eyes twinkling dangerously. Remus recognised him as the boy Narcissa had liked at the beginning of term feast. He stopped when he saw the older boys, smirking at them irritably. "That bloody ghost, can't just let someone run when he's late to class normally, no… he's gotta throw something at you." The boy indicated his stomach, where a large, green stain was spreading over his black robes.

Severus gave him a look of disdain. "Sirius Black, maybe if you weren't late to class Peeves wouldn't throw things at you."

Recognition and a look of hatred flashed into Sirius' eyes. "Oh, it's you is it, Slimy Snape? Finally found yourself a friend, I see." Laughing at his own joke, Sirius leaned over Remus and peered at him. "And a _Ravenclaw, too. Gee, you've got such great taste, __Severus." _

"Maybe you should get to class, instead of loitering in hallways insulting people, Black." Severus' black eyes were glinting, and he fingered the pocket in his robes where he kept his wand. Remus glanced at both of them and felt the animosity burning there, silently destroying any hope of an easy resolution to this confrontation. 

In a sudden burst of smoke Severus and Sirius both drew their wands, pointed them at each other, and shouted out hexes loudly. Unfortunately for Sirius, he grasped at his stomach in pain before opening his mouth to let a slug slide out. Severus laughed bitterly. 

"Now get to class, Black, or should I get you a bucket first?" Without another look at Remus, Severus strode off down the hallway, and Sirius glared after him. Remus collected the rest of his papers and stood, offering to help the younger boy to his class.

"Nah, I'm alright—but that slimy git has it coming, I'm telling you. And I'll get him one day, don't you worry…" As Sirius crawled off to the hospital wing, Remus ran in the opposite direction, hoping against hope that a detention was not what awaited him in Professor McGonagall's classroom.

***

Yay! Now just review review review and then review some more! Come on… you can do it! Only 21 (double spaced) or 12 pages to think about! : )


	13. Hogwarts: Discoveries

Yes, it's back! This chapter is VERY long, longer than my others, simply because there was so much to say! (and, unlike "First Year" and "Of Quidditch", this chapter barely covers from Summer 1972 to Christmas 1972. (35 pages double-spaced, 20 single-spaced)—go figure!

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, except for Alexander, Cassius, Roxane, Nicolette and Sarissa Malfoy; Mrs. Rosier; Edward Moss; Raoul and Jacqueline Snape; and Sarah Winton (who's barely mentioned, anyway).

Here's to this chapter! *clinks champagne glasses together* Because, namely, we're getting even more closer to VERY ORIGINAL stuff in BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON! I hope you enjoy it!

***

**Discoveries**

_July 4th, 1972__, _9:34pm____

"Evan?"

His mother stood in the doorway of the small bedroom, a crisp envelope in her hand. Smiling, she walked forward and placed it on the edge of his writing desk, currently cluttered with textbooks and scrolls filled with neat, small handwriting. Evan's eyes fixated on the letter as she stopped, awkwardly standing in the centre of his room.

"Have you been studying today?"

Grimacing, Evan nodded slowly. "Yes, Mother. Heaps."

She winced slightly at his impertinent tone. "That's good, darling. Would you like some dinner now? Your Father's been called out to work, so…"

"I'm fine, Mother. Really."

Without another word she left the room, her head lowered and Evan's face blanched with anticipation. The envelope sat like a bomb on the desk, ticking softly within his mind, waiting to explode. In one rapid movement he jumped off the bed and grasped it hungrily, ripping the parchment apart like a wild animal then devouring its contents. When he had finished reading, the paper dropped to the floor like a heavy stone.

_Minister Cassius Malfoy_

_Department of Magical Catastrophes_

_The Malfoy Estate, __Lancashire___

_Mr. Rosier,_

_Do not attempt to grovel, plead or in any way dishonour yourself for my benefit—Lucius has well-informed me and my father of the situation I now face concerning my daughter, Sarissa, and yourself. I am aware of the state of your family; in fact, if not for your name there would be no way I could ever conceive of making such an offer as my brother has made to you._

_You are very smart, Mr. Rosier—I will grant you that. And I do not mean this in a devious sense, for I do believe that you feel something, however small, for my daughter. Instead, Lucius has proposed a favour to you—and indeed it is, for there are few which would be initiated into our Order that have not been hand-picked by our Master himself. Do not fool yourself—as I have said previously, and undoubtedly you have noted, it is your name which gives you the honour your parents have neglected._

_My offer to you, in exchange for permission to court my daughter is this—you will not abandon her. There will never be another opportunity for someone such as yourself in which you gain so much… and lose but a small portion of your freedom. Lucius himself has given you the means—and now I give you my agreement. Remember, however—I do not give either my blessings or my approval. I am of the opinion that respect must be earned, and should you squander her apparent love for you on vicious dealings and shows of vacant lust… you know now the consequence._

_I leave the decision in your hands—for better, or for worse. Your first choice, to return to your parents' house instead of to the home of your new family was ill-advised. The terror in your heart betrays you, boy. I believe in second chances… there are others that do not forgive so easily. I feel your fear, Mr. Rosier—but I cannot condemn you._

_I expect your answer immediately… in person._

_C. Malfoy—_

Evan felt his body contort rigidly, his arms flailing wildly out at the sides as he clung for the nearby desk, legs jerking around in a robotic kind of tarantella. _What is this Dark Magic?_ his mind asked anxiously, its thoughts jumbled and chaotic, mirroring his physical state. Others voices spoke inside his head—deeper and deeper they seemed to delve, into the darkest regions of his mind where long-forgotten ideas dwelled. _Power… Anger… Hatred… What I Am…_

The room around him drained of colour, blue dripping down the walls like tears on a windblown cheek—it spun, faster and faster, the colours mixing together and swirling rainbow ribbons at his feet. They tightened and Evan felt his ankles lock together, aching pain spreading up his shin, then his hands were bound as well. The bedroom faded into darkness.

_Power… someone whispered in his ear, __more than you could ever have desired. The black which lay before him seemed unending, but this didn't frighten him as it might've long ago. _Yes, long ago… in another time, another life. None of it matters anymore.__

"Yes," Evan murmured, the soft words barely echoing in the vast blackness. As he spoke them it was as if the floor he stood upon dropped away and he fell slowly, floating through nothingness until he closed his eyes and concentrated on the fading sound of his own voice. _Power… Anger… Hatred… What I Am…_

When he opened them again he was lying sideways on prickly carpet, the red, cabernet colour startling his weak sight. Rolling onto his back he noticed three figures standing before him all dressed in long, glittering black robes that reflected the green haze that hung in the air above them. Standing quickly, Evan saw Cassius and Lucius staring at him stonily from underneath their dark hoods, the centre figure his head bowed as if in prayer.

"Rosier, Evan," Cassius announced, his voice throaty and menacing. "The initiate has arrived, Master."

Evan looked to Lucius, whose eyes were now fixed on a spot in the distance, then noticed that the central figure was moving towards him, seeming to float as he walked silently and his robes swished around him.

"Does the initiate swear his allegiance to his Master, the Dark One Who Shall Bring Light?" His eyes flickered back to Evan's and the latter felt his skin crawl when he saw his reflection in the cold stare. "Do you swear your allegiance to Lord Voldemort?"

The name sent shivers down Evan's spine, his fingers tingling just at the sound of it. That same rigidity began to flood his veins and he quickly nodded, his voice shaking from the intensity of the moment. "Yes, I do swear my everlasting allegiance to Lord Voldemort, my Master, the Dark One Who Shall Bring Light." The words were not his own; Evan felt as if someone else from another plane of being spoke through him as he swore to obey the orders of a man whose name was unfamiliar to him.

"Does he swear it truthfully, honourably?"

The voice was the same as the one who had spoken to him when he was in the depths of darkness, nothingness surrounding him but no fear wrapping its cold, clammy hand over his heart. It was not raspy, guttural or moaning—the sound was virile, strong, and ultimately inspirational. Evan's heart beat faster as a wand emerged from the robes, the power of the magic practically reverberating off the walls of the room he had not dared recognise until now. _The room, _he thought, surprised, _Alexander Malfoy's study… a room that I would know as well as the face of my best friend, the boy standing in front of me now… and the one who I feel is lost to me forever._

Evan felt the warm tip of the wand touch his arm, and a trance came over his body as his eyes snapped shut, savouring the sensation religiously, knowing the sanctity of this moment could only be broken through his own fault.

"_Morsmordre,_" the voice said clearly, its tone not hushed or afraid. His lower arm burned, but its pain was nothing to him now, as the words came back to him and Evan repeated them softly, over and over again.

"_Morsmordre, Morsmordre… Morsmordre…_" Evan wanted to open his eyes, but as Lord Voldemort continued to speak to him mentally, he lingered still in the realm between ecstasy and torment. _Power, Anger, Hatred—What You Are.__ You shall devour them all, with their high ideals and self-abasement. _

_You shall devour them all, Death Eater._

The heat now searing through his arm, Evan opened his eyes tentatively, not wishing to see the truth of what was now emblazoned on it. "The Dark Mark," he heard Lucius say, but something within him revolted in the silence of the deep, dark night, mind racing and heart palpitating—

Evan Rosier screamed.

***

That summer I returned home early under the pretence of illness to complete my monthly transformation. When I regained consciousness I was well aware of the absence of Evan Rosier, and of Lucius' constant harassment of Sarissa in the halls of the Manor. After several days she confined herself to her bedroom, reading into the early hours of morning, I noticing the light underneath her door and the rustling of parchment turning vigorously. As always, in times of great trial, Sarissa preferred the written word to the spoken; her Mother continued to knock at the door and persuade her to return to the world of the living, but to no avail. Even when her beloved reappeared early in July she could not be coaxed from her sanctuary.

I spoke with Evan often over the summer months; his friendship with Lucius was strained and although he divulged nothing of the change that had occurred between them, in my heart I knew the one they were fighting for—Sarissa—or so I thought. My Uncle Cassius, however, spent lengthy hours with Evan Rosier around the fireplace in his study, poring over aged books and quoting from them effortlessly. As each day passed without acknowledgement from Sarissa, his eyes dulled as Lucius' brightened—I felt more unsure of my Uncle than ever in these moments as we sat around the breakfast table, my Mother nervously devouring her fruit and eggs while Grandfather spouted innocuous 'pearls of wisdom' concerning the troubles our world was facing. His lucidity was fading fast and Cassius, his established heir, seemed quite reluctant to listen as he rambled on with senile flair.

Aunt Nicolette's forced smiles grated on my nerves for much of July; without Edward and Narcissa to keep my spirits highs (they were arriving in August, at my Grandfather's wish) and with depression reeking through the Manor like the stench of our new Head Chef Maximilian's terrible cooking, I felt almost entirely alone.

"Remus?" In late July I was surprised by Sarissa's familiar chestnut hair bobbing in the doorway of my bedroom. Beckoning her inside and closing the door behind her quickly, she sat on the edge of my bed and sighed heavily. "I just don't know what is right anymore."

"What do you mean?" I asked, although well-versed in her predicament by my Mother by this stage.

"Father… and Evan. It's as if I can't even control my own life anymore!" She flopped backwards on the bed, crushing my History of Magic homework in the process. I winced but she didn't appear to notice. "Mother says that Evan wants to court me, to marry me… but I'm barely fifteen! How do I know that what I want right this moment is going to last me for the rest of my life?"

Slowly, I began to evaluate the situation. "Sarissa… it doesn't have to mean forever. You don't _have to marry Evan if you don't feel its right."_

"But that's just the problem, isn't it?" She sat up once more, hair dishevelled and eyes welling with tears. "It _does feel right… but I'm scared, Remus. Our world is changing, and not for the better… I don't want Evan to be—drawn in, by Lucius, just so that he might have me. I'd rather die now than let that happen to him." Sarissa's eyes were glinting dangerously, so I sat beside her and held her tightly._

"It'll all work out, Sarissa… don't worry so much. This should be making you happy, not hurting you this way. Calm down, try to stop thinking about it. That's the only way to get past pain—you simply have to live through it, because whatever is supposed to happen, _will._"

I'd like to state her that my words had comforted her, but I can never be sure of such a thing. Mostly during that summer my mind kept straying back to Severus, and the friendship we once had. Edward and Narcissa were wonderful, but nothing they could ever give me replaced the honesty that existed between Severus Snape and myself. I knew that the tale of Sarissa and Evan could never interest or make any sense to them; they were different to me, and to my family. They knew nothing of loss, of deep dark pain that dwelled somewhere within yourself that simply wouldn't—or couldn't—be eradicated. And so the life I was living at that moment drew me away from them, so that even when they arrived in August I was distant, older and wiser in my mind because I could understand the world more completely than they and at a younger age.

My Mother pulled me closer to herself at this time, watching me constantly and always interceding whenever she saw Uncle Cassius approach me, even for something as trivial as asking how my Quidditch practice was going, or the time of dinner that night. This was the point in my life when I longed to wrench myself free from her clinging grasp; hold her by her shoulders and shake her mercilessly to try and make her notice that I didn't need her anymore. I hadn't the heart to tell her any other way.

So, this was my summer of contemplation. Often as I thought of Severus, whose friendship I feared I would never regain or match, I wished for another friend, one who could see me for the person that I was in a moment, not who I was in the past or might be in the future. I needed someone different in my life to change the way I viewed the world. As I write this I recall something Evan said over that summer, his face sad and grey.

"Sometimes you think you've found the greatest friend in the world, the one you'll always be able to speak to, understand, and that they'll feel the same about you." His sigh was heavy, laden with sorrow and unmistakeable defeat. "Then the day comes when you realise that there's no going back—they aren't the person you loved once, the one you would've killed and died for, and it hurts like hell. You feel like you've been stabbed in the back, kicked in guts… and for what? Just another memory to overshadow you for the rest of your life."

Severus was gone forever. But deep inside my heart, where all those dark secrets lay, a niggling hope continued to inspire my mind daily. Because one day those friends would arrive, and maybe they would forsake me also, but the point was to make the most of the time you had together. Because a memory never leaves you, even if Evan was right and you feel its consequences for the rest of your life. And that was all I asked for, in my transforming teenage mind.

***

_November 19th, 1972__, _2:39pm____

"Stop it, you stupid git!"

"Or what, Slytherin slime? You'll tell Professor Cendric that I've been upsetting your harmony?" James Potter laughed languidly at his own joke, his best friend Peter Pettigrew accentuating the insult with high, squeaky giggles of his own.

Sirius Black narrowed his eyes at the two Gryffindors, cursing the fact that he had been grouped with them for the next term by the Professor. "No, I'll cover your bed in Bubotuber Pus, just to see if Sprout was telling the truth… maybe next day you'll come to class pimple-free, Gryffindor garbage."

Professor Cendric had been called from the dungeon several minutes earlier, ordering her class to work quietly on their Swelling Solutions until she returned. Instead, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students watched the interchange between the two boys, rich-kid James Potter and loose-cannon Sirius Black, who had been vicious enemies since their first Second-Year Potions class. 

James looked venomously at Sirius, his messy hair standing on end. "You'd better not say things like that, Black," he murmured silkily, blue eyes flashed dangerously. "Or my Father—"

"Yes, yes, we've heard it all before." Raising his arms in a mock royal gesture to James, then standing to face the crowd of Slytherin's behind him, Sirius danced a little jig from side to side then shouted sarcastically: "Daddy's got a lot of Galleons, he can pay to rid ickle Jamsie of the evil, the terrible, the undeniably _foul _Sirius Black!" The Slytherins clapped and whistled loudly for their friend, who re-seated himself and continued to prepare his solution, slicing his caterpillars meticulously. The rest of the class resumed their work silently, but after a moment, underneath his breath just so James could hear, Sirius muttered: "Why don't you get a haircut, you arrogant prat?"

James exploded inside with rage. Glowering at his nemesis, James whispered softly, just for Sirius: "At least I've got a Father, you pitiful little _orphan._"

Suddenly, everyone's attention reverted to James and Sirius, the latter of whom had the former in headlock on the floor of the classroom. "What was that, eh? Not got a Father, right? Well, I'd rather live with Filch than with your son-of-a-bitch Father and holier-than-thou Mother! You're a stupid, worthless spoilt brat!" James wrestled free and managed to punch Sirius in the stomach, ending his tirade but continuing the fight. They were still rolling around on the cold, hard stones, the other students crowded around cheering for their respective heroes, when Professor Cendric reappeared and her previously smiling face turned into one of utter wrath.

"_What is going on?!" The students scattered, clearing the way for their Professor, who stood above the now subdued Sirius and James, who were lying side by side on the floor, both with fists aimed and ready to make contact. "__Potter!__ Black! Detentions for both of you, and I'll make sure that Professors McGonagall and Mulciber hear about this blatant disrespect for your teacher, your fellow students and mostly, for yourselves!" They lay on the ground, stunned, and Professor Cendric reached down to pull them upwards by the collars of their robes. "_Get up!_" she screamed, and the bell sounded for the end of the school day, causing the remainder of the class to leave quickly, their cauldrons still bubbling wildly._

"Both of you will attend a detention with Mr. Filch on Saturday." Her voice was softer, calmer, but dangerously so. Sirius and James said nothing, not wanting to spur her on towards further anger. Professor Cendric marked the date in her diary and then looked up at them from her desk at the front of the classroom. "If either of you so much as _whimper for the rest of the semester in my class, I'll have you suspended. Do I make myself clear?" They both nodded quickly and the Professor waved them away. "Now get out—Mr. Filch will contact you regarding the arrangements." With these parting words, she swept away and into her office, leaving James and Sirius alone in the classroom._

"Black," James hissed softly, and Sirius glared at him. "We've got to settle this properly—unless you're chicken, that is?"

Sirius shook his head angrily. "Never, Potter. Just tell me the time and the place, and I'll beat the living daylights out of you."

"Tonight. The Arithmancy classroom in South Tower." They both shook hands defiantly, the hatred gleaming equally in their deep blue eyes. "Don't forget your wand." 

***

_November 19th, 1972__, _5:19pm____

"Hagrid, do you remember my Mother?"

Remus' hands were shaking slightly; he knew that the moon would rise in little less than an hour, but this question was one that had never been fully answered by Groundskeeper Ogg, and it had lurked at the back of his mind for almost two years, longing for the truth. Rubeus Hagrid, a giant of a man, chuckled into his grizzled brown beard.

"Aye, Master Remus. I remember yer Mother."

Since he didn't say anything more, Remus pressed him harder. "What about Raoul Snape… do you remember him?"

Hagrid's face changed, his bearded grin turning to a solemn smile. "Aye."

"Were he and my Mother… friends?"

"Aye."

This was becoming infuriating. Remus decided to word his questions more carefully, so that Hagrid would not be able to slip through the net of secrecy. "Why didn't she marry him, truthfully, Hagrid?"

The older man's eyes crinkled slightly at the edges in thought, and his lips twitched at the memories of years long past, sunny days near the lake when he, the apprentice groundskeeper, would prune trees and hedges grown unruly in the spring heat and hear snippets of conversation on the light breezes that swept down the lawn.

"Raoul… I'm sorry, I just can't." He remembered her eyes seeming a little red around the edges when she swept past him later in the afternoon, as if she had been crying—and he knew he was one of the only parties to the secret.

"Roxane!" The tall, dark-haired boy had cried, loudly enough for Hagrid to hear. "You can't tell me it's about money; I know you don't care about that sort of thing."

"Sometimes, Raoul… it matters. I can't live like a peasant." Hagrid could hear the pain, the insincerity in her voice. He hoped that Raoul might pick up on it also, dissuade her, promise her everything in the world because if she loved him, he would have everything he ever needed.

"How can you say that? Before—you said—I love you, Roxane. That changes everything."

"No! You can't understand… ever. I won't marry you. I love Archibald." The short, staccato sentences ran through Hagrid's mind as he tried to place the name. _Not that Lupin git, _he thought, racking his brains while still eavesdropping on the conversation. _He isn't right for someone like her—someone that spirited, lovely. He doesn't deserve her._

"Alright, I believe you." Raoul's words were forced, as if it might choke on them as they rose like bile from his throat. "You do what you like… I'm going to Paris, anyway. I hope that you will be… happy."

Hagrid still listened for her after Raoul had gone and the sun was setting, fading away into the hills beyond. Behind him, he heard her softly sobbing into the red-tinged grass, the colour spreading to her eyes and flushing her face with lines where the tears had run. "Cassius," she whispered to herself as the wind blew her words down the slope to dissolve into the lake. "How can you do this to me?"

Hagrid glanced up at Remus, the son of Roxane and her ill-fated husband, and smiled at him genuinely. _He must never know. "She didn't love him," Hagrid stated simply. "Not the way she was supposed ter. If she ever did… well," he paused and chose his words carefully, deciding to rely on clichéd rather than factual basis, "I just say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, eh?"_

Although Remus didn't appear satisfied, this was the only explanation Hagrid could give, and he left the boy to his confused thoughts, memories welling up then crashing over him like a wave, causing him to stop and lean against the wall of the tunnel. Pulling out his handkerchief, Hagrid blew his nose noisily and stopped the tears that threatened to flow down his aging cheeks. _If only we could change the past, eh?_ he thought to himself before continuing down the passage and emerging from the Whomping Willow, then settling down in favourite chair for a cup of tea, hoping for a peaceful night in front of his fire… no memories, no thoughts. Just warmth.

***

_November 20th, 1972__, _12:23am____

The halls were dark, dimly lit by the occasional torch sconce as James and Sirius ran madly through them, breathing quick and heavy from the chase. They could hear behind them the clicking of Mrs. Harris' claws on the stones, Argus Filch's pounding footsteps not drowning them out entirely. As they rounded another corner, Sirius dragged James towards a seemingly bare piece of wall, covered only with a long and dusty tapestry that he pulled aside, revealing a crawl-space behind. "Quick, get in," Sirius whispered urgently, forcing the other boy inside then crawling in himself, drawing the tapestry over the top of them, hiding them from Filch's sharp eyes. "Move," he stated anxiously, and James began to creep quickly down the lengthening tunnel, Sirius following closely.

They continued their descent silently, finally emerging from a small drainage grate outside the castle. Allowing themselves to relax, James looked at the Slytherin boy with new eyes. "Why'd you pull me in with you?" James questioned, and Sirius panted as he tried to regain his breath from the exertion. "You could've just left me and let Filch find me, and you safe in the tunnel."

Sirius grinned at James conspiratorially. "Probably 'cause I knew that if I left you out there, you would've told him where I was anyway. Then we'd both've been boiled alive." He patted James on the shoulder in an attempt to get him moving. "C'mon. Better get you back to bed, eh Potter?"

"Wait a minute… let's leave it for a bit, then Filch might give up so it'll be easier to get back inside." Pointing at the hole they had emerged from, James smiled weakly. "I'm not looking forward to climbing back up there."

With a shrug, Sirius said, "alright. Whatever cooks your goose." He noticed the Whomping Willow which lay several feet ahead of them looked rather frightening by the light of the full moon. He nudged James and nodded towards the tree. "How's about we check that out, eh?"

"The Whomping Willow? What for?"

"'Cause we're never allowed to go near it normally. Some stupid Hufflepuff's couldn't hold their own in a fight with it—not like us, we're up there with the greats at hand-to-hand fighting, right?" James felt a smile spread across his face at the memory of the previous afternoon.

"I'm not looking forward to that detention, but. If Filch knew it was us tonight…" James trailed off and followed Sirius as they began to walk closer to the Willow. 

"But he doesn't, so it's okay." With a smirk backwards at James, Sirius laughed softly. "You worry too much, you know that?"

_I've been told before, James thought, his shoulders weighted as he remembered the conversation he had had with his Father that summer. _Our world's in such a mess, and Father doesn't really seem to care. What with all the rumours… I wouldn't be surprised if we weren't one of the first targets of this Dark Lord. _They drew nearer to the tree, still keeping at a safe distance, Sirius inspecting it carefully. His eyes focussed on an unusually-shaped knot near the bottom of the Willow. "What're you looking at?" James asked, and Sirius pushed his hand away playfully. James hit back, a little harder than he expected, causing Sirius to overbalance and roll towards the tree. He gasped as the huge branches of the Willow began to gyrate wildly above his head, attempting to strike Sirius with their knobbly arms. As he rolled, Sirius hit the side of the Willow and groaned painfully… then disappeared entirely. The Willow froze, and James' shriek caught in his throat._

"Black?" he asked squeakily, rushing closer to the tree—and the place where Sirius had vanished. _Where did he go? he asked himself crazily, mind overflowing with the possibilities. __Sink-hole, invisibility charm… dark magic?__ When he reached the tree, James instead saw the beginnings of another tunnel, leading underneath the roots of the Whomping Willow. _I've got to find him._ Without another thought for his own well-being, James slid into the hole, hands grazing on the pebbly ground as he did so._

At the bottom Sirius Black stood, gazing around himself in bewilderment. "How'd I get here, then?" he asked nobody in particular, then his eyes fixed on James as he fell into the tunnel. "Hello. Come to join me, have you?"

James nodded then raised his eyebrows at the low passageway they had found themselves in. "Where are we?" he asked Sirius stupidly.

"Underneath the tree, obviously," the other boy said sharply, "the real question is why are we here? Since when did Whomping Willows come with secret passages?"

"Let's explore." The two boys pulled their wands from their pockets and held them at the ready as they walked, heads lowered, through the tunnel. After twenty minutes of walking, they found themselves at a sturdy, wooden door—obviously locked by magic. "_Alohomora," James murmured, causing Sirius to look at him strangely. They heard the door unlock, but as James reached for the handle Sirius stopped him._

"Where'd you learn that, then?"

"What, the spell? Found it in a book somewhere—very useful when your parents lock you in your bedroom and ground you for a month." Sirius chuckled underneath his breath and released James' hand. "Shall we go in, then?"

During the time they had been standing there, Sirius, but not James had noticed an ominous low growling coming from behind the thick wooden door. However, his sense of adventure and curiousity were piqued, and something in him longed to know the secret concealed at the end of this tunnel. "Yes," Sirius said confidently, a dangerous twinkle glinting in his blue eyes.

James twisted the doorknob, and the door swung open quickly, startling them both. However, a moment later they barely noticed the door, their terrified gaze instead fixated on the bristling wolf that stood before them, eyes wild with blood-lust as it growled then licked its chops hungrily. Sirius squeaked in fear as the wolf lunged for him, then just in time James pointed his wand towards and shouted loudly: "_Petrificus__ Totalus!" Frozen in mid-air, the wolf dropped to the ground heavily, landing with a loud thud. Before James pulled the door closed Sirius, his abject fear still clear on his face, saw a pile of tattered Hogwarts school robes lying in the corner of the room, near some battered and gnawed wooden chairs. James re-locked the door magically then they both ran through the passage without a glance back, reaching the beginning of the tunnel out of breath, still scared out of their wits. "What was that?" James asked, gasping._

"That… was a werewolf." Allowing James to stare at him in horror, Sirius coughed loudly then spoke again. "And that werewolf… was a student. I saw his robes in the corner of the room." James nearly choked at the revelation.

"What? A werewolf, at Hogwarts? The trustees would be furious!"

"Only if they knew… I'm guessing that this is a big secret, but we're not the only one's here who know." Sirius sighed, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. "How long has the Willow been here, anyway? A year or two? It's got to be one of the younger students, maybe even someone in our year…"

James furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating on the possible suspects. "It'd need to be someone who disappears a lot, monthly even. Right on the full moon…" He could see soft moonlight drifting down from the tunnel opening, casting a soft glow through the passage, but shook his head defeatedly. "I can't think of any Gryffindor who fits the description."

"Slytherin, either. Even though I'd like to think it was that prat Severus Snape—I'd love to get him expelled—but he's too old, if we're going by the age of the Willow."

"Well, yer both right, so yer both better get up here an' explain yerselves before I come down there an' get yer!" The voice that fell into the tunnel like a heavy stone from the world above startled Sirius and James immeasurably, the latter cursing himself for not realising a few moments earlier that the opening—which had been closed following his descent—was unusually letting light into the dark tunnel. Both boys scrambled out quickly, sweat trickling down their backs from fear, over-exertion, and now the threat of expulsion over their heads. When they reached the top, Rubeus Hagrid pulled them up and began to drag them towards the castle, shaking his head in disbelief. "How'd yer get down there, anyway? Have yer been watching what yer oughtn't, scoundrels?"

"It was an accident," Sirius began to explain profusely. "We just wandered a bit too close to the Willow, and it knocked me up against it, then I fell inside. It's all my fault, Hagrid—Potter came after me, to save me."

Hagrid guffawed loudly. "A likely story, Sirius Black. Yer as much of a troublemaker as yer Father ever was, creeping aroun' and into things that didn't concern him." Then, with a comforting glance to the scared boy, "but he was a good man, Sirius. I mean that." James noticed that Sirius smiled softly at this added remark, and suddenly felt as if Sirius Black was his best friend, not Peter Pettigrew. _How strange… I guess there're just some things that you can't live through without becoming friends with the other person._

Ten minutes later, the two of them stood nervously outside Professor Dumbledore's office, hands shaking as they tried to remain calm, both fearing the worst—expulsion—but hanging on to the hope that the great Albus Dumbledore would find it in his heart to forgive them, maybe even obliviate what they had seen from their minds. The door opened and Hagrid exited, gesturing for them to enter. Slowly, with their heads bowed deferentially, James and Sirius walked into the study, glancing up at Professor Dumbledore. The expression on his face was one of a disappointment—but also one filled with resolution.

"Sit down, the both of you." They sat and placed their hands on their knees politely, still looking at the Headmaster with an ashamed look in their eyes. "I'm not happy with either one of you, because you've broken the school rules… but, sometimes, rules have to be broken." James looked very surprised, and Dumbledore laughed a little bitterly. "I'm certainly not condoning what you've done, but now that I think about it… perhaps this for the best."

"Should we go and pack our trunks right away, Headmaster?"

Now it was Dumbledore's turn to look amazed. "No, even though I probably should expel you, not only for your disobedience but also for your total disregard for your own welfare. Do you think we have rules just to hinder you?—No, they are there for your protection. Both of you could have died tonight, and destroyed the future of a talented, albeit cursed, young Wizard. It is not his fault that he is what he is…" Dumbledore sighed and stood, leaning on his desk and looking down on the two boys. "In return for your education, I will ask a favour of you."

"Anything," James whispered earnestly, and Sirius nodded in agreement.

"The boy who you _discovered, as it were—he is a third-year Ravenclaw, Remus Lupin. I'd like you protect him, dispel any rumours that may emerge, befriend him. He is a very troubled young man; with the world as it stands I do not know if he will be safe from… fanatics. Do you have any problems with befriending a known werewolf, boys?"_

They shook their heads a little too slow for Dumbledore's approval and he laughed again, this time less seriously. "Do not be frightened of Remus—his lycanthropy is only dangerous during the full moon. If you agree, you must not breathe a word of this to anyone, and rarely speak about it amongst yourselves. It is up to you whether or not you tell him you are aware of his secret." Professor Dumbledore sat again in his comfortable leather chair, tapping the table with his fingernail absentmindedly. "I warn you, however—should anyone _else_ know of his curse that he does not tell himself, your education will be forfeit. Do you understand?"

Nodding, Dumbledore allowed them to leave and leaned back in his chair as they opened the door to his office. "Hagrid will accompany you back to your common rooms. And, boys—" They glanced back at him, noticing a glimmer of amusement in his eyes and a smile twitching on his wizened face. "No more duelling after midnight, please. Mr. Filch has enough worries; he doesn't need to be chasing you over the castle instead of tending to them. Goodnight."

As the door closed behind them, Dumbledore grinned at Fawkes, whose feathers were drooping slightly from age. "Such troublemakers, Fawkes—it makes you wonder, really, if they'll ever reach maturity unscathed. Finding a werewolf, indeed!" He laughed loudly and Fawkes trilled softly, his song echoing into the cool hours of early morning.

***

_December 8th, 1972___

_Dearest Father, Cassius,_

_Thankyou for your letter dated _December 2nd, 1972___. There is no need to concern yourselves over my examinations—study is easier for those who are light in mind, body and spirit. Evan, I fear, is finding the transition difficult. He received a letter from our Master at the end of November, concerning his duties following his graduation from Hogwarts. At first he appeared excited by the prospect of a job in the Ministry, especially one in the Department of Mysteries. He urges me to thankyou for speaking with Augustus Rookwood, Cassius… despite his reluctance to serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named immediately, he is ecstatically preparing himself for a Ministry job._

_Sarissa has been distant for the past month, both from Evan and myself. I feel little concern for her well-being—it seems she is having second thoughts regarding Evan Rosier, but your decision has been made well, Brother. Has the date for her debut been set yet? I always believe it is best to wait and see what other opportunities may arise for Sarissa, perhaps a man of greater importance and wealth shall take an interest, then all Evan has achieved will be of little use to him. How amusing._

_Remus speaks with Sarissa often; they have been seen speaking together in the library behind opened books—maybe the key to her unrest lies with Remus, Brother. Speak to him about it on Christmas Vacation, he loves you greatly and will undoubtedly divulge any important information concerning her. His friendship with the Ravenclaws appears to have weakened considerably—perhaps it is time to introduce him to the cause? Of course, he is yet too young to be initiated but his mind and body grow stronger every day from his cursed lycanthropy. Every time I see him he appears taller, smarter, and ever more essential to our success. After all, sometimes brains are more important than ambition, Cassius._

_His old friend, daughter of the Lestrange's, has caught my eye of late, Brother. She seems to grow more beautiful every day, and with the assistance of her parents she might be useful in the long-term—as a friend, more so than an enemy. I put the question to you, Cassius—when did you first decide to seek a bride? And at what age did Nicolette agree? Certainly, she was not the most perfect of choices, but then you were not to know. As a __Caldwell__, she was of good Wizard stock, it was merely her inability to reproduce which caused you harm. I must have a son, Brother—the son you never could. He will be as heir to us all, a son for both of us to cherish and pass all wisdom to. Like a dragon, he shall strike down all his enemies with a poisonous hiss, fiery breath accompanying his wit and fervour. I hope for him daily, Brother—for both of us._

_Should I encourage Narcissa, or leave her be momentarily? She is young yet, differently so… she seems younger than she should be. Might you speak with Jonathan, her father, about a betrothal? I am sorry to trouble you so; life is too short to waste time, is it not? As our Master professes, 'time is of the essence'—and must be used wisely. Speak with him, for me, perhaps invite the family to Christmas at our home so that I might speak with Jonathan and Elena myself. I need to know their choice before I can settle myself enough to concentrate properly on what I should—she will soon be fourteen, and ripe for the plucking… I cannot control myself in her presence._

_I apologise for the previous paragraph, Brother—and I know without a doubt that only you shall read this, Father puttering about like the useless old man he is. Senility is yet another affirmation of the importance to seize the moment—seize time while it is your own. I adore Narcissa, Cassius… and I shall have her, whatever the cost._

_Remus, Sarissa and I return on the 20th. I shall speak with you at greater length then, when we are able to be alone._

_Your comrade, brother,_

_Lucius.___

***

_December 18th, 1972__, _1:08pm____

"Remus? Remus Lupin?"

I looked up to see two very distinctive figures standing in front of me. Both were tall, dark-haired boys with blue eyes, one of whom I had met the year before in a confrontation with Severus Snape. The other had incredibly messy black hair that hung over those blue eyes, and thick coke-bottle glasses which always made me smile. The former was called Sirius Black, a prominent Slytherin whose parents had died in an attack by fanatic Grindelwald supporters twenty years after the Dark Lord had been deposed, he just a small child at the time; the latter was James Potter, with a reputation for being a slightly pompous Gryffindor, whose Father was head of the Misuse of Magic Office. Both were second-years, and I had heard tales of their apparent aversion to each other. So, when they approached me outside the library on a freezing December afternoon, I was quite surprised that they even knew my name, let alone could match it to my face.

"Yes?" My arms were laden with textbooks; I had headed for the library to get a start on an especially nasty Transfiguration essay I had due after the Christmas holidays. The boys smiled at me and at each other, causing great confusion to me and my assessment of their characters.

"Hi. Could we talk to you for a minute—" here Sirius lowered his voice considerably, "—in private, please?" A little irritated, I nodded and followed them into the empty Charms classroom nearby. James closed the door behind me and locked it magically, causing me to protest loudly.

"Hang on, what's this all about? I haven't done anything—"

"Yeah, just nearly killed us!" Sirius laughed, seating himself on top of Professor Flitwick's desk. I stared at him, alarmed, and he waved my questions away. "Don't worry about it, probably our fault anyway. You don't remember?" 

I shook my head, and James nudged Sirius knowingly. "He wasn't himself, you know—he probably doesn't remember much of what happens when he's… you know… _transformed._"

Sweat began to trickle down my back as I nervously attempted to cover my tracks. "Transformed? I… I don't know what you're talking about. Look, I've really got to get to the library…"

"We know, Remus. Hagrid found us underneath the Whomping Willow… and we thought we'd better talk to you before… well, tonight." James smiled reassuringly and I settled back in my chair, fear still creeping into my heart. "We didn't mean to find you, but then Dumbledore asked us to, well, _protect_ you. Stop any rumours, that sort of thing, right? Easy stuff, for us anyway." Sirius punched him in the arm and James rubbed it painfully, glaring at his friend.

I was completely speechless. I finally managed to squeeze out a few words, barely related to what we were talking about. "I thought you two hated each other."

Sirius nodded then, with a grin, punched James again. "We do. That's what we find so funny, being friends and all. If you like, we could always hate you too."

Allowing myself to relax in their presence, I laughed softly. "Are you sure you really want to be friends with a werewolf?"

"Dumbledore already asked us that question, and we agreed. We don't care about stuff like that, just don't try to kill us again, alright?"

"Stay away from the Whomping Willow, and I promise you'll survive highschool."

James decided to change the subject towards something that filled him with less tension. "You still play for Ravenclaw, Remus?"

I nodded happily. "Yep. First match against Hufflepuff, end of January."

"Sounds good," Sirius replied, blue eyes glinting at me. "I heard that Slimy Snape is playing for Slytherin since Flint left last year. That'll be a barrel of laughs—or monkeys, whichever you prefer. I hope you knock him off his broom, maybe that'll knock some sense into him as well."

James rolled his eyes at Sirius' choice of words. "Don't worry about him, Remus. I heard you were friends with Severus, anyway. Is that true?" 

Sirius looked incredulously at me, and I felt myself squirming beneath his gaze. "Not really… our parents were friends, so we used to be play together when we were younger. Not anymore, definitely not anymore."

"Like I said, a barrel of monkeys." Sirius pursed his lips and slid off the desk, pulling James along with him. "We'd better let you finish your work in the library, eh? What class is it for?"

"Transfiguration." They both smiled knowingly, and I felt like I was finally at home with the two of them. "It's my worst subject—all my friends are fantastic at it, though."

Putting his arm around me conspiratorially, Sirius whispered: "That's where you're wrong. James and I hate it too." I stood and he led me to the doorway, James unlocking the door and pushing it open for me. "Hey, you're friends with Narcissa Lestrange, right?"

Nodding, I pulled my books closer to myself and smiled at them. "Right."

"I dunno, maybe you could put in a good word or something, Remus… because seriously, that girl is gorgeous!" James hit Sirius, who yelped loudly. "What? Just being honest, Potter… you know it's the truth."

"Sure, whatever. See you later, Remus!" As I walked inside the library, I saw Sirius' hand raised in a wave to me. Slowly, but confidently, I waved back, something inside me reassuring me of their loyalty. _They'll never tell, I thought happily, glad that I now had someone other than Hagrid and Dumbledore to share the secret with. _This is the beginning of something special, I can tell… a New Era. I can't wait.__

***

_December 18th, 1972___

_Dearest Mother,_

_I just had the strangest encounter with two second-year boys… but I'll tell you more about that when I get home. I can't wait—it's almost Christmas! And this time I'll be able to spend it with you all, happily, in front of the fire with Butterbeer, Roast __Turkey__ and presents for everyone! Might we go to Diagon Alley on the 22nd, since I wasn't able to find anything for Sarissa or Lucius in Hogsmeade? (plus, it was rather difficult to buy presents for them while I was with them too, Mother!)—it will be nice to be home again, even though Hogwarts is, and always will be, the greatest place in the world!_

_Quidditch practices have been more often, despite the weather—our next match is against Hufflepuff in January, and Sarah really wants us to win so that we have a chance for the House Cup (especially since Gryffindor won last year, worst luck). Edward and Narcissa are both going home as well, so Sarissa and I shall sit with them on the Express home. We'll probably sit in the fourth carriage, so be sure to look out for us, or tell Uncle Cassius to… otherwise we'll be struggling through the crowds for hours._

_I'm confused about Sarissa right now, Mother—and especially by Evan Rosier. I don't quite understand what Uncle Cassius has planned for the two of them, but whatever it is I hope it makes them happy. The two of them haven't spoken since before the summer holidays, and although Sarissa has deftly avoided the subject I know there's more to this than Lucius' threats. He isn't friends with Evan anymore, and I find that very strange—Sarissa could not have caused such a rift between them, I thought that Lucius might've been happy for them, rather than malicious. But it's not good to speak ill of your family, so I'll stop immediately. Either way, you'll always know that I love you, Mother—more than anyone else I've ever met, or ever will. Sometimes, though, everything seems headed for tragedy, and I just can't take it… why can we never stop these things until it is too late? I don't understand._

_I'm fearing_ tonight something terrible, Mother—the pain grows more intense, and it weighs heavily on my soul. My transformations don't feel the same as they once did, and I just want them never to happen again… not to mean that when I was younger I didn't hate them as I do now, but it is different. It's as if my mind is growing more lucid, rather than staying deep in the haze of childhood when I am a wolf. I don't understand that, either.__

_I'd best stop writing and start working, now—I've got a Transfiguration essay to start! Don't worry, Mother, it isn't due until next term. For some reason I just felt an incredible need to write to you, my only correspondent, and vent a little. This year has seemed so frustrating, but now it's suffused with a great light. I can only hope that next year brings something hopeful and true for Evan, Sarissa—me and you._

_All my love,_

_Remus.___

***

_December 18th, 1972__, _2:49pm____

The snow fell heavily outside the library windows as Remus scratched out his previous sentence concerning the most difficult of transfiguration spells, that which transformed the caster into an Animagus. Bitterly, he thought, _not that I need a spell to become an animal—it's in my blood naturally. No, not naturally… accidentally. There, that sounds better. Sighing heavily, Remus reached for his inkwell and noticed a shadow falling over his table._

"Hello." It was the red-haired girl who had congratulated him after his first Quidditch match. For a moment, Remus stared into her green eyes, the emerald pools drawing him in and devouring him sweetly. "Don't you remember me?"

"Oh, yes, sorry…" Remus shook off his reverie and smiled at the pretty girl. "You spoke to me after we beat Slytherin, that isn't something I'd forget easily." Not knowing if his words came out the way he intended, he gestured for her to sit at his table.

"No, thankyou. I just wanted to ask you something… about Quidditch, of course." _Yes, why anything else? Sweet Merlin, she's beautiful…_ Her face was perfectly heart-shaped, and Remus saw that her smile activated a small dimple in her right cheek. "But, if you're busy…" she trailed off as she saw the piles of textbooks and the parchment that lay before him, long forgotten in her presence.

"I'm not busy."

She took a deep breath and grinned widely. "Alright then. I was wondering… well, if it's okay with you… would you help me with my Beating? Quidditch, I mean… I want to try out for the Hufflepuff Team next year, and I thought you might be able to help me." Giggling nervously, she added: "I know I'm the enemy and everything, but I thought, we're friends, aren't we? You're not one of those Hufflepuff Haters, are you?"

Remus laughed as well, and the girl noticeably relaxed. "No, definitely not. I'll help you, just not until after the Hufflepuff match—after all, I can't have my protégé beating me, right? No pun intended…"

"Oh, thankyou!" She hugged Remus around the neck suddenly, causing his face to redden until it was the same colour as her long, soft hair. "I'm so grateful!"

"It's alright, really…" Remus was incredibly embarrassed; several third-year Slytherins were sniggering at him needlessly, but he didn't have the heart—or the will—to push the girl away. "I guess I'll see you in February, then?"

"Sure!" Turning to walk away, the red-head walked several paces before glancing back at Remus. "Oh, I almost forgot," she smiled and it seemed as if her hair caught fire as she did so and brightened the entire library with an intense light. "You're Remus Lupin, right? My name's Lily Evans."

***

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